


workings of the human heart

by khrysallis



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Drama & Romance, M/M, Political Marriage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-07
Updated: 2017-05-07
Packaged: 2018-10-29 01:32:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 29,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10843722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/khrysallis/pseuds/khrysallis
Summary: Junmyeon is sent to Huaxia as an offering for a peace treaty, to be a consort to the reigning Emperor Wu Yifan. Except, Junmyeon's not really a prince, and perceived truths will all become lies.





	workings of the human heart

**Author's Note:**

> (Prompt #75)
> 
> Sorry this is a mess, considering I was rushing half of it through ;__; but I still hope the original prompter will like this! Self beta-ed. Any and all mistakes are mine. 
> 
>  
> 
>  **warnings** : graphic description of violence, minor character death. historical inaccuracies. sex is only towards the later part of the fic.

__

_One of the hardest things in life is having words in your heart that you can't utter.  
\- James Earl Jones_

_____________________________

 

He has never heard of this much noise in his entire life.

The loud clashing of the gongs and drums and tambourines fill the air even as the night grows deep, intermixed with the raucous laughter and cheering of the people celebrating in the square, and he has to shut his eyes and focus on filtering the commotion out in order to quell the oncoming headache. As it is, there's a dull throb at the back of his head, steadily building in intensity with each passing beat of his heart. 

He pinches the bridge of his nose to distract himself from the uncomfortable sensation, taking in deep breaths to calm himself down.

It's not as though it's deathly silent from where he comes from, however—far from that. He knows the sound of celebration when he hears it, but Goryeo has never been this lively in _years_. Even the Lunar New Year festivities occur at a much smaller scale, seeing that the country is still reeling from the after-effects of a war they never really recovered from. 

Then again, his memories of the streets of Goryeo is fuzzy at best. Beginning the tender age of five, Kim Junmyeon has been hidden from public view behind the palace walls, his existence virtually unknown to the world except to those who are closest to the Crown. That includes King Myeongjong himself, his royal advisor, and his most trusted ministers. _Traitorous_ , King Myeongjong had said of his Queen and concubines and children, _they'd betray and plot the downfall of another, just to climb their way to the top_. It's just the way of life in the Imperial Court, and King Myeongjong has openly admitted he doesn't want to be embroiled in that.

Power binds and blinds; no one is immune to its lure. 

Junmyeon finally opens his eyes when the worst of the headache has faded, and he grabs the opportunity to peek out of the horse-drawn carriage he's currently travelling in. The waxing gibbous moon hangs high on the night sky, barely visible in the lights of the lanterns illuminating the streets unless Junmyeon squints and strains his eyes to see. There's so much happiness and laughter going about, something which he hasn't seen in a long while, and some part of him sours with a little bit of jealousy and a whole lot of resentment. 

Then again, Junmyeon knows precisely _why_ the people of Chang'an are in such a merry mood—their Emperor will be holding a lavish wedding ceremony on the day of the full moon, celebrating the formation of a peace treaty between Huaxia and Goryeo. King Myeongjong had promised Emperor Wu the hand of a Goryeo prince in marriage, as proof of his sincerity in honouring the peace between both nations, and of his hopes that Huaxia could lend a helping hand in rebuilding Goryeo in the afteryears of the war. 

Junmyeon is that prince offered to Huaxia. 

At first glance, Junmyeon looks every part a royal, from his delicate facial features, to the gentle slope of his nose, to his polite mannerisms. He has the intelligence to match his status, too, having spent hours upon hours in the Imperial Library, reading up on history and politics and, on the occasion, famous poetry. Junmyeon has been touted as one of the most brilliant scholars in the country by his personal tutor, a trait which has become the envy of many a minister who knows of him. In addition to that, Junmyeon was also trained in the arts of self-defence by the Head General of the Goryeo royal army, and is deft at wielding many a weapon— _you can never be too careful, or learn too much in order to protect yourself_ , King Myeongjong had told him years ago, and Junmyeon held on steadfastly onto that principle until now.

But the truth still remains—Junmyeon is _not_ a prince, and does not have a single drop of royal blood running through his veins. No, he is far from that, having been born as the son of the best General Goryeo has ever seen. His father had died saving King Myeongjong from an attack on the battlefield, and his mother had followed him to the realm of death soon after, having been plagued by depression and inconsolable grief from the loss of her beloved husband. King Myeongjong had taken Junmyeon in after his mother's remains had been cremated, and promised him a life of comfort as a token of appreciation for his father's noble sacrifice—on one simple condition. 

Junmyeon is to gain the Huaxia Emperor's unconditional trust, and end his life. 

He sinks his teeth into his bottom lip in thought, absently thumbing the hilt of the dagger slotted discreetly in the waistband of his pants. King Myeongjong's words ring clear in his mind as the carriage draws closer to Weiyang Palace, and Junmyeon takes in slow, deep breaths to calm himself, feeling nothing but an endless stretch of confidence. 

_This is but a small sacrifice, letting the Emperor have your body,_ King Myeongjong had said, the night Junmyeon had turned twenty and discovered the destiny King Myeongjong has been grooming him for, _for the sake of avenging your father and bringing glory to the nation by seizing the throne of Huaxia. Return the glory of Goryeo to what it was; I trust in you._

He doesn't need anything else to convince him that this is the path he must take—Junmyeon _will_ succeed.

 

❅

 

There isn't too great of a difference between Goryeo and Huaxia, Junmyeon observes the first few days he's there, when the hectic preparations for the upcoming royal wedding lulls.

For one, he can see the striking similarities between the building styles of Goryeo and Huaxia, all majestic pavilions and grand courtyards and sweeping roofs decorated with ceramic figurines; he doesn't doubt Goryeo has obtained some—if not all—of its architectural influences from Huaxia. Aside from that, the majestic dragon motif adorns many a beam of Weiyang Palace, a symbol representing the Emperor and his greatness, and it's through these motifs that Junmyeon picks up the places where the Emperor would frequent the most. 

Of course, what reminds Junmyeon most appallingly of the Goryeo Imperial Court is the mannerisms of Emperor Wu's own _hougong_. Even before the day of the supposed marriage, Junmyeon has been receiving enough dirty looks from Emperor Wu's concubines—men and women alike—all hostile behaviour and poorly-concealed snide remarks whenever they meet in the many hallways of Weiyang Palace. Even the Empress, a beautiful, outwardly graceful woman called Song Qian, displays inhospitable behaviour towards Junmyeon when she's not being careful enough in upholding her image to the rest of the Court, though she is considerably kinder than most. 

Although Junmyeon had been fortunate enough to avoid the infighting amongst the members of Goryeo's Imperial Court, hiding his presence away from the preying eyes of many by staying in the confines of the library and his private residence, he doesn't think he'll have that sort of luck with him here in Huaxia. Especially not when he's virtually an outsider from a nation which had been considered an enemy of Huaxia's until several years ago. It doesn't even matter that he's supposed to be there to uphold the fragile peace between both nations—or the fact that this fragility can be easily shattered with one simple word from the Emperor, if he so pleases. He's viewed as a competitor for the Emperor's affections, he knows, and Junmyeon doesn't think they'll ever change their opinion of him anytime soon. 

Junmyeon's skin crawls with the urgency to complete his mission, so that he can escape the binding shackles of this unnecessary, unprovoked infighting, but he reins himself in regardless; acting in haste will only worsen the situation, and he may lose his life before he even gets anywhere close to the Emperor.

 

❅

 

The morning of the wedding comes too quickly for Junmyeon's liking, though he presumes the Emperor's advisors are more than satisfied with his poise and mannerisms over the last couple of days since he's arrived at Weiyang Palace. They marvel at the speed at which he seems to be able to ingrain within himself the rules and regulations that govern the palace—almost effortlessly—as though Junmyeon has been living within these four walls all his life. It _does_ help that Junmyeon is proficient enough in the Huaxia language to communicate with the others, too; at least he doesn't have to tilt his head cluelessly whenever they try to talk to him, which is the case with the servant King Myeongjong had sent along with Junmyeon.

It's late afternoon when Junmyeon is ushered to his customary bath, petals of various flowers scattered in the tub to give the water a floral scent. He doesn't even have to lift a finger to clean himself, sitting stiffly towards the side of the large tub while the male servants scrub every last inch of Junmyeon clean. 

The head maiden awaits his arrival in the next room, once Junmyeon has dried himself off and has dressed himself in a fresh set of underrobes, seating him on a stool made of the finest quality hardwood in front of a small dressing table. Her expression is carefully neutral as she powders his face, and Junmyeon is once again made to momentarily strip his torso bare after, in order for the head maiden to examine his body for scars. He tries not to flush at the close scrutiny, a rare moment of self-consciousness striking him hard, because there is only one other person who has ever seen him shirtless in his life. 

Thankfully the ordeal is quickly over, and the head maiden steps back with a look of satisfaction when she's done. 

He is then led to the adjoining chamber, where a garb of brilliant red hangs from a wooden frame standing in the middle of the room. Junmyeon is not surprised to find the motif of a Phoenix sewn intricately onto the silken material—it represents the status of the Emperor's Queen and concubines, of a mythical creature that complements the majestic dragon. The material is heavy on his shoulders, but Junmyeon stands tall regardless, chin slightly raised in a dignified manner. There are silent gasps of awe coming from the maidens who serve him, and Junmyeon catches the quiet whispers of _he looks like he truly belongs_ from afar as the head maiden pulls his long hair into a bun, finishing her handiwork off with an ornamental pin of jade and emerald.

As though on cue, a palace guard enters the preparatory chambers while the head maiden busies herself with smoothing out the barely-there wrinkles on Junmyeon's outfit, announcing that the most auspicious time for the commencement of the wedding ceremony is fast approaching. Junmyeon barely even manages to catch his breath, when he finds himself being ushered towards the sedan chair waiting for him outside. He feels almost naked without his beloved dagger by his side, having left it behind in his chest of clothes in his chambers earlier, but he surmises it's for the best. There is no real rush in assassinating the Emperor for now, when the blame for the murder will surely be placed upon Junmyeon's head if the Emperor should meet his demise on their wedding night. He aims to complete the task he's been entrusted with successfully—and most importantly, _alive_.

Patience is a virtue which Junmyeon fully intends to observe. 

The grand ceremonial hall is where Junmyeon meets Emperor Wu for the first time in his life. His head remains bowed as he walks towards the altar, face covered behind a red veil as is customary for the person in the role of the bride, but it doesn't stop Junmyeon from wondering how exactly does Emperor Wu look like. He envisions a man like King Myeongjong himself, middle-aged and greying sideburns, with a long beard that adds on to his age. 

The anticipation only builds as the ceremony progresses, almost completely preoccupying Junmyeon's thoughts. He merely answers when prompted by the master of ceremony, but the rest of the words fail to register in his conscious mind. Even the act of performing their nuptial bows passes him by in a foggy manner, and Junmyeon only jolts back into attention when the master of ceremony requests him and Emperor Wu to exchange their nuptial cups. 

He keeps his gaze trained on the floor, the way the head maiden had instructed him to. Junmyeon plays at being demure, knowing that it'd throw the Emperor off if he comes across as strongheaded on their first meeting. Junmyeon remains calm even when he sees the Emperor pinching the hem of his red veil with gentle fingers, and he doesn't flinch when candlelight suddenly floods his vision and causes his pupils to constrict. He offers no resistance when Emperor Wu tips his gaze up with a finger beneath his chin, putting a polite smile on his lips as he raises his head. 

And Junmyeon is pleasantly surprised to meet the face of a relatively young man—possibly only several years older than Junmyeon himself but no more than thirty—standing in front of him. Junmyeon would have thought this was a part of a cruel joke, had he not noticed the way the man is dressed in elaborate robes as red as Junmyeon's, dragon motifs embroidered in gold on the silk cloth pronouncing his authority. There's no mistaking it—the Emperor of Huaxia is standing before him, hovering at least a head taller above Junmyeon, blessed with a strong jawline and incredibly handsome features. 

It wouldn't be a difficult task to feign affections for someone like this, when he's easy on the eyes, Junmyeon decides. His features seem serious without a smile on his face, but Junmyeon doesn't mind. An Emperor has to keep his authority seen and heard, and coming off as kind will only render him vulnerable to exploitation by his ministers and underlings. 

With such thoughts in mind, Junmyeon accepts the cup of rice wine handed to him by the master of the ceremony, linking his arm with Emperor Wu before pressing the edge of the cup to his lips, taking in its contents in small sips until he drains it. 

His mission truly starts once they're officially pronounced married.

 

❅

 

 

Junmyeon would be lying—and lie he did, to the Huaxia officials who were tasked to vet his eligibility to be one of the Emperor's consorts upon Junmyeon's arrival at Weiyang Palace—if he says he's never been involved in an intimate relationship prior to this.

He remembers fondly of the scholarly son of a minister, a mischievous yet intelligent boy called Cho Kyuhyun. Back then, Junmyeon already knew that he was more interested in those of the same gender rather than fair maidens and esteemed daughters of nobles, though Kyuhyun is the only one who managed to break Junmyeon's walls down and get close enough to him. Their personalities were very different, but Junmyeon was charmed. It was with Kyuhyun that Junmyeon had experimented, the other boy warming Junmyeon's bed on more nights than one. It was unfortunate King Myeongjong had discovered what they were up to eventually—he was always suspicious of Junmyeon and Kyuhyun's exceptionally close relationship, though Junmyeon suspects one of the palace servants might have told on them—and he was _furious_. 

Kyuhyun ended up being exiled to the borders, while Junmyeon was forbidden from interacting with anyone else if his tutors were not with him. Junmyeon wasn't insane enough to try to pull the same stunt twice, even though he does resent King Myeongjong to a certain extent till this day. 

Then again, perhaps Junmyeon's brief fling with Kyuhyun had sparked the idea in King Myeongjong to marry him off to the Emperor of Huaxia as a guise for their plans. 

The evening after their wedding ceremony, though, Junmyeon realises that things might not be as simple or as straightforward as they had initially planned. His heart thunders in his chest as he follows after his newly-wedded husband deep into the palace grounds, where the Emperor's private chambers are situated, but Junmyeon doesn't let his rare bout of nervousness show. It's unsightly for an assassin like him to be unsettled by something like this, Junmyeon knows, but he's also painfully lacking in interpersonal skills, owing to the years he's spent being isolated from the rest of the world, speaking only to his tutors and the guards secretly tasked to ensure his safety. 

"Sit," Emperor Wu orders once the guards have closed the double doors made of hardwood behind them, gesturing towards the bed situated in the far end of the room, and Junmyeon doesn't protest—only because he can't risk angering the Emperor now. He keeps himself relaxed throughout, which is easy once he shoves every last thought out of his mind, though he's acutely aware of the Emperor taking his seat beside Junmyeon on the edge of the bed. He offers no resistance when strong, calloused fingers grab hold of his chin, making Junmyeon turn to look at him, and Junmyeon employs the sultriest gaze he can manage. 

There isn't much time allocated for him to complete his mission. The faster he can get things going, the better. 

Up close like this, without anyone else around them to distract him, Junmyeon can take his time to appraise Emperor Wu's facial features even more, from the straight, steep slope of his nose to the almost unnoticeable scar marring his right cheek, easily missed if one wasn't looking close enough. He doesn't doubt there are many who do not know of the existence of such a scar, not unless they were the Emperor's Queen or consorts. He absently wonders how the man had obtained such a scar. 

"You are better looking than I expected," Emperor Wu says then, locking his gaze on Junmyeon as he runs a broad hand across Junmyeon's cheek. "Why have I not seen you before on King Myeongjong's court?" 

Junmyeon raises an eyebrow at him, feeling a little bold tonight. "Are you implying my other brothers are not up to your standards, Your Majesty?" It's a risky move, but Junmyeon makes sure to inject a hint of teasing into his words to soften the impact. He knows this is not true; Crown Prince Joongi has exceptionally handsome looks, and has managed to win over the hearts of many a woman despite his volatile temper. And then there was sweet Prince Seongwoo. 

Unexpectedly, a tinge of pink immediately spreads across Emperor Wu's cheeks, and he dips his head slightly in response—it's probably as close to an apology as Junmyeon will get. "That is not what I meant. I am merely surprised," he explains, even though he doesn't have a need to. He's the Emperor, after all, and his words are supposed to be law. "You have not answered my question."

Ah, he was hoping he could have avoided that. "I do not frequent the Courts much, Your Majesty. _Pyeha_ would rather I studied in the archives and polished up on my knowledge, than to learn of the dealings in Court, or to be corrupted by certain ambitious ministers," Junmyeon says instead. It's the partial truth, anyway—he _couldn't_ appear on the Court, because he had no right to it, not without a single drop of royal blood running through his veins. And King Myeongjong _was_ the one who insisted Junmyeon to make good use of the library and archives, to prepare himself for a future of governance. 

"Then, perhaps you could enlighten me on the reason why you willingly agreed to be married to me? Surely it does not comfort you to know that you would be letting another man touch your body, even if I am open to it...?" Emperor Wu asks him again, voice dropping dangerously low towards the end, though when Junmyeon realises it next, the other man's face is already extremely close to his, warm, rice wine–tinged breaths fanning across Junmyeon's lips.

Junmyeon does the unthinkable, sucking in a deep breath out of surprise and stiffening in his position at once. He curses himself for not preparing his heart more, when Emperor Wu's grip on his cheek loosens before he places a good distance between them, expressions unreadable. Surely he's incurred Emperor Wu's wrath now.

"Your Majesty—" Junmyeon calls out, making himself sound as uncertain and afraid as he possibly can, because he _needs_ to convince Emperor Wu that he fully intends to submit himself to the ruler of Huaxia, that he is merely nervous of potentially being intimate with the Emperor that evening. "This humble servant apologises for his foolishness—"

The air in the chambers is tense as the Emperor walks away from the bed, slipping off the red robes he'd worn for the wedding ceremony and hanging it up on the wooden frame situated to the side of the room. Emperor Wu doesn't even look at him when he says, "Our marriage will not be solemnised tonight, not until you are ready." His voice is deceptively calm, and Junmyeon wonders if the Emperor would write to King Myeongjong that same night, telling the King of his son's deeds. 

King Myeongjong would be terribly upset and disappointed in him if it were true, for failing his mission before he could even truly begin. _All that I have done to prepare you for this, and this is how you repay—_

Junmyeon doesn't get to continue that thought, the Emperor's deep voice shattering his inner worries like an arrow through porcelain moments later. 

"I am not one to force myself on people who will not accept me willingly. Retire you shall for the night. There is an adjoined sleeping chamber to your left. Make yourself comfortable and rest well." 

Junmyeon's gaze follows Emperor Wu's directions, and realises there is indeed another set of doors leading to a different room. Knowing he can't possibly stay on when the Emperor has asked of him to leave, Junmyeon politely excuses himself from the Emperor's presence, disappearing to rest for the night—but not before apologising yet again. 

Emperor Wu still doesn't look in his direction, even as Junmyeon shuts the door behind him. Attempting to fall asleep that night is much harder than Junmyeon thinks.

 

❅

 

It is no easy feat, wanting to get as close to the Emperor as possible without drawing suspicion to his motives, especially after having indirectly rejected the man on the night of their wedding. Emperor Wu had kept a respectable distance since then, and it's something which Junmyeon hadn't expected. He was under the impression that Rulers would do whatever their heart pleases, _because_ they hold the greatest power in their respective lands. No one can possibly disobey them; they'd risk being labelled as traitors, and heads will surely roll.

Nevertheless, Emperor Wu is clearly different from the rest. Junmyeon can't say he isn't the least bit impressed. 

Unfortunately, the same can't be said about Emperor Wu's other concubines and consorts, when it comes to Junmyeon's impression of them. He's not oblivious to the judgemental looks they give him, and it doesn't take much for him to deduce that he's _still_ not welcomed in Weiyang Palace; they probably see him as a meaningless tributary, someone to dilute the bitter history between Goryeo and Huaxia. Useless, and pointless. 

Then again, Junmyeon still can't find it in him to be bothered by such cold treatment. He's here on an important mission, and it definitely isn't part of his plan to docilely sit around looking pretty for the rest of the world to see. In fact, the less he mingles with the rest of the denizens of Weiyang Palace, the easier it is for him to conceal his identity. It's better for him to come off as mysterious, and he really only needs them to think that he's one of the hidden princes of Goryeo, nothing more.

With Emperor Wu keeping him at an arm's length away, the only thing Junmyeon is capable of doing is to observe his mannerisms from the sidelines. It proves as a great challenge, when Junmyeon isn't allowed anywhere near official functions, but he makes the most of the time he sees the Emperor. At least, he's able to perform an objective assessment of the man, picking up on the important details like the Emperor's usual habits and the sort, instead of being distracted by the handsome man. 

(Junmyeon will not admit he's been noticing the frown lines on Emperor Wu's forehead when he peruses a scroll or a book over dinner, or the way he would absently chew on his nails whenever he's deep in thought.) 

He meticulously takes note of the way Emperor Wu would act with regards to his personal safety as well, considering how it's an integral part of determining whether his mission will be a success or a complete failure—and, in the event that Junmyeon fails, it would also mean he'd be _dead_. He's not one to be afraid of death, really, but Junmyeon would rather not be a disappointment. He has his late father's honour to uphold. Junmyeon wouldn't know how to face his father in the afterlife, should he be unable to accomplish the mission King Myeongjong has assigned to him. 

The thought unsettles him more than it probably should, but Junmyeon doesn't let it hamper his determination. 

It _would_ be difficult for him to act in the day, he quickly realises. Emperor Wu has his personal guard of ten surrounding him wherever he goes, each man as skilful as the best generals of Goryeo. Junmyeon has observed them sparring once, and promptly decides it's best if he steered clear of them. He can probably take on two of the Emperor's Royal Guard on his own, but any more than that would see Junmyeon being defeated without question. Besides, Emperor Wu also has his Secret Guard lurking in the shadows; he's noticed several of them before, men whose faces are hidden behind masks, quickly disappearing from sight the moment Junmyeon turns his head at the slightest sound of a rustle. 

Of course, he doesn't ask his personal servants or the guards tasked to assist him around Weiyang Palace about them. Junmyeon _needs_ to lie low, and asking about the Emperor's Secret Guard would indirectly expose Junmyeon of being well-trained in picking these details up.

Junmyeon's first plan is put to the test when he's requested to attend a dinner function thrown by the Dowager Empress, two weeks after Junmyeon's wedding to the Emperor. It's nothing but an idea on his scroll, a strategy he might employ if he can find a way to go about it, but Junmyeon quickly realises it will not possibly work.

The Emperor has a personal taster by his side during meal times, a young man dressed in simple white robes, hands trembling minutely as he puts a small portion of the Emperor's food into his mouth. It's the only indication that the young man is afraid, though perhaps it's born from his fear for the effects of the poison rather than for losing his life— _anyone_ would be more than proud to die for their king. 

That's where Junmyeon's taken by surprise, when he sees another servant lighting up an incense stick the moment the taster swallows the food. He recognises the incense, knows that it'll take at least an hour before it completely burns out. Around him, though, no one seems to be making a fuss, even if he sees the impatience written on the faces of several of the concubines, and he arrives at the conclusion that this is a normal occurrence during mealtimes. Emperor Wu has his eyes downcast, perusing yet another book on his lap as he waits when Junmyeon chances a look. He's always so hard at work, it's no wonder his ministers adore him. 

_This is the most potent poison known to mankind,_ Junmyeon hears his tutor telling him all those years ago, all while holding up an innocuous-looking red mushroom between his fingers. _A mere few drops of the juice obtained from it is more than enough to kill. It's sightless, odourless, undetectable by silverware, and most importantly, acts slowly enough that you can make your escape before you are even discovered._ That was when Junmyeon had learnt the most important lesson of his life—the most innocent are also the most dangerous. Trusting the wrong person could end up killing him.

Unfortunately, if Junmyeon's hunch is right, he thinks Emperor Wu might have his guards up against this particular poison which Junmyeon fully intends to use as part of his primary assassination scheme. He doesn't let his uneasiness show, however. Instead, Junmyeon folds his hands in his lap and closes his eyes, letting the scent of sandalwood permeate his senses. He can feel curious eyes on him moments later, coming from the direction of the throne, but Junmyeon remains unaffected, even allowing a small smile to grace his lips—showing Emperor Wu that _he notices_ the attention, relishes it. 

It's a completely different situation in his head, however. Realising that his first choice of killing method is rapidly becoming infeasible, Junmyeon's mind is already hard at work, trying hard to come up with something else—and hopefully, _soon_.

Dinner is an uneasy affair for Junmyeon that evening. He hopes no one notices how little he's eating.

 

❅

 

A month into their arranged marriage later, Junmyeon still doesn't have a single clue on how to get closer to the Emperor.

He can feel the mounting pressure to complete his mission, even though King Myeongjong hasn't yet shown any signs of displeasure. There are times when he feels as though he's a complete failure as an assassin, but Junmyeon quickly banishes those thoughts. Assassinating the head of an empire requires intense and meticulous preparation after all, and one wrong step could end up foiling everything they have planned thus far. 

_Patience_ , Junmyeon tells himself repeatedly whenever his anxiety is about to get the better of him. _I must have patience._

Still, knowing King Myeongjong will be eager to hear some form of news from him, Junmyeon sits down at his desk and pens a short message in the more ancient form of his native language—he's sure no one else in this kingdom knows how to decipher the words, in the unfortunate event that someone manages to intercept his message.

Gently, he takes the pigeon he'd brought along with him to Huaxia out of its cage, stroking its feathers of varying shades of grey with the back of his hand before carefully tying the tiny scroll to its leg. It's his most trusted pet, a gift bestowed to him by King Myeongjong, and thus far it has never failed Junmyeon whenever he needed his messages delivered swiftly.

"I trust in you to get this safely to His Majesty," Junmyeon whispers, in case someone's listening in on him. The pigeon coos in response, and immediately takes flight when Junmyeon releases it out of the window. 

Now, all he can do is wait, and plan some more.

 

❅

 

Just as Junmyeon begins to wonder if his messenger pigeon had made it safely back to Goryeo, news comes in the form of an emissary from his native country to Huaxia.

Junmyeon learns of this while he was scouring through the Imperial Library for more reading materials—quietly taking notes of Weiyang Palace's perimeters and various buildings at the same time, to prepare an escape route for himself for when he finally executes his mission. A guard appears beside him out of the blue that morning, quietly notifying Junmyeon that his presence is required at the main hall, which is surprising enough on its own. Junmyeon knows the Court is supposed to be in session still, and he has never been allowed to listen in on Emperor Wu's discussions with his ministers. The sudden invitation throws him off. 

Junmyeon's sure his confusion is written all over his face when he turns to the guard with a frown, and asks, "Is something the matter?" 

"An emissary has come from Goryeo, bearing gifts for Your Highness and His Majesty the Emperor," the man explains, head still bowed. Junmyeon decidedly still isn't used to such respectful treatment from others, even if he knows his current status in Emperor Wu's _hougong_ warrants it. "His Majesty would like Your Highness to be in audience with him." 

Oh, in that case. "Very well, lead the way." 

What surprises him even more, though, is the fact that the main hall has been emptied when Junmyeon arrives, the session between the Emperor and his ministers seemingly never happened at all. Emperor Wu is already seated at the throne, looking absolutely regal in his golden yellow robes, large hands firmly on his knees as he waits. Junmyeon bows, apologises for his tardiness, then takes his place beside the Emperor. 

Like this, looking down at the rest of the hall from an authoritative position, Junmyeon can somewhat comprehend the greed of others to usurp the throne for themselves. He thinks it's fortunate he doesn't share the same ideals. A position of power is not what he wants. 

The messenger from Goryeo doesn't seem surprised to find Junmyeon—a prince he's never heard of in his life, Junmyeon presumes—seated at the Emperor's elbow when he's invited into the grand hall. Even if he does, the man is doing an excellent job at concealing it, voice unwavering as he presents two ornate wooden boxes to Emperor Wu and Junmyeon himself.

Emperor Wu is the one who does most of the talking, thanking the messenger for delivering the gifts from King Myeongjong—a sculpture of a dragon made from the most expensive jade for the Emperor, and the finest silk for Junmyeon—in person. The messenger doesn't seem perturbed when the guards proceed to check the boxes and gifts for their safety, stance relaxed as he engages the ruler of Huaxia in simple conversation. When the gifts are deemed safe, Emperor Wu asks for the palace servants to deliver them to the treasury and Junmyeon's chambers respectively, before offering a place for the Goryeo messenger to rest for the evening. It is swiftly declined with extreme politeness by the man, citing King Myeongjong's wish to see him back in Songak by nightfall, and Emperor Wu sends him off with a guard to the palace gates. 

Later, when Junmyeon is back in the privacy of his own chambers, he runs a hand across the carved surface of the wooden box bearing his gift from King Myeongjong, fingers tracing the floral motifs on the lid before trailing off towards the steel hinges. Even though he's alone in the room, Junmyeon still glances surreptitiously around him, and gently slides the lock mechanism out of the lid's hinges once he's sure he's not being spied on. That's when the back of the box falls open to reveal a secret compartment—it's an innovation known only to the royal family of Goryeo, and Junmyeon's the only other person who has been entrusted with the knowledge of its existence—and within it, a parchment bearing King Myeongjong's penmanship. 

_Arrange for an outing in the meadows close to the border of Goryeo, and I will have assassins deal with the rest,_ the letter reads, and Junmyeon relaxes in the familiarity of the language. _Protect him if you must. He must not lose his life there. Not yet._

 

❅

 

Spring is at its height in Huaxia when the fourth month of the year draws to its end, with the flowers in full bloom and birds singing their sweet songs, bringing with them a sense of tranquillity and peace. The palace gardens are much livelier than it had been when Junmyeon had first set foot at Weiyang Palace, and he finds himself wandering out of the library with a book in hand a lot more frequently, fully intending to enjoy a good read at one of the many pavilions erected on the palace grounds. The fresh Spring air allows him to concentrate better, and the fragrance from the flowers helps calm his tumultuous thoughts.

Unfortunately, there is a downside to the lovely Spring weather, and it comes in the form of an unpredictable late afternoon rain that doesn't abate for hours. Junmyeon finds himself trapped in such a situation one day, while he was reading in a gazebo closest to the Imperial Library. He's left without an umbrella or any means to get to the nearest building, considering how he had dismissed the servants who were tasked to follow him around. Normally, he wouldn't have minded getting himself drenched, so as long as he could return to his private chambers away from the rain. But Junmyeon has a book in his possession that afternoon, and he loathes to get it soaked, knowing how important each and every copy is to the archives. 

Besides, he doesn't think the archive keeper, a stern middle-aged scholar called Dahwa, would be very pleased with Junmyeon if he finds the pages drenched in rainwater. The ink will surely run, and Junmyeon thinks Dahwa is not above getting Junmyeon to copy its contents into a brand new tome, word for word. 

He shudders at the thought. 

Junmyeon's shaken out of his midday reverie when wet footsteps join him at the gazebo just then, and he's taken aback by the sight of golden yellow robes in his peripheral vision. There is only one person allowed to wear such colours in the palace, after all, and sure enough, when he looks up, Emperor Wu is there smiling down at him. 

"Your Majesty! Warmest greetings—" Remembering his manners, Junmyeon quickly rises from his seat to bow at the other man, though a firm hand on his elbow effectively stops Junmyeon before his knees manage to soak up the rainwater collected on the ground. 

"There is no need for formalities, Concubine Jun. Please, rise," Emperor Wu reassures him, looking to his right in amusement. Junmyeon follows his line of sight, and realises that Emperor Wu's other servants are watching them with disdain from a distance away, all wanting to hurry over to where the Emperor and Junmyeon are, but none of them dare to make the first move. That's when Junmyeon realises Emperor Wu must've stopped them from following him, and had walked through the rain to the gazebo in the middle of the garden to join Junmyeon. 

Junmyeon doesn't know what to think of it. 

Emperor Wu's shoulders are damp with rainwater, though, so Junmyeon quickly retrieves his kerchief from the folds of his robes and dries the visible water droplets on his royal robes with it, going on tiptoes because Emperor Wu is so impossibly _tall_. Then he remembers Emperor Wu hasn't given Junmyeon explicit permission to touch him, and he withdraws his hand at once, lowering his gaze and clearing his throat. "Your Majesty, you should not have done that. Your servants will be worried sick if you fall ill, and heads will roll." 

"Do you really think so?" Emperor Wu muses, and when Junmyeon makes his confusion apparent, he clarifies himself. "Royals killing as we please. Your statement implies as such." 

Of course Junmyeon thinks so. History has never proved otherwise. But he also knows he _has_ to get on the good side of the Emperor, so he puts on a show of panic and immediately bows deeply in remorse. "That is not what this humble servant meant, Your Majesty—"

"Be at ease," Emperor Wu cuts him off and actually _laughs_ at Junmyeon. He can feel his cheeks burn against his will. "I was merely teasing. I do know the common census amongst the people, but be assured that I do not aim to become a person who kills in cold blood. Or without proper reason." 

Somehow, when Emperor Wu puts it that way, Junmyeon finds that he can believe in his words. "That is comforting to hear, Your Majesty." 

"Please, I said you can do away with formalities when we are alone. You can call me Yifan," he says, and Junmyeon blinks at him in surprise, not having expected it at all. Somehow, having a name to pin on the Emperor of Huaxia makes the man seem more approachable, and less like a target he's been tasked to kill. 

Junmyeon halts that thought immediately. He still has a mission to complete, and his father's death to avenge. 

"Is that... really alright? Will I not be criticised for my insolence?" He asks instead, trying to steer his inner thoughts away from dangerous waters.

Yifan nods in assurance. "You have my word. And I am not pulling your leg this time," he says, then, as an afterthought, adds: "Someone tells me your birthday is soon. It falls on the twenty second day of the fifth month, does it not?" 

Junmyeon makes a sound of surprise at the question and dips his head coyly, as though hiding a blush which doesn't exist. "I am humbled by your thoughtfulness, Your Majesty. I did not expect you to find out." 

" _Yifan_ ," the Emperor corrects him, amusement deep in his voice. "I have my ways. I am, after all, the Emperor of Huaxia, am I not? Now pray tell, what wish might you have? One which you yearn to see fulfilled, and one which is in my ability to grant, of course." 

The fact remains that no one in Goryeo has ever bothered commemorating the day of his birth after the passing of his parents. Kyuhyun and Minho—the son of another general who is a friend of Junmyeon's father—are the only ones apart from Junmyeon himself who even knew when he was born. 

Secretly, Junmyeon is pleased that his pawn has managed to deliver. Of course, Junmyeon knows who that _someone_ is. He had mentioned it in passing to the head maiden the other day, while she was preparing his bath, and he had no doubt she was going to pass the information on to Yifan. He had a hunch Yifan had tasked her to find out as much about Junmyeon as she possibly can, then relay it to him. This only confirmed his suspicions. 

Junmyeon would be damned if he doesn't use it to his complete advantage, and immediately jumps at the opportunity. "Would it be too much to ask you to show me your country, Yifan? I have heard great things about its sceneries, especially the meadows in the outskirts of Chang'an," he tries, knowing full well that the meadows act as a border separating Goryeo and Huaxia. 

Yifan is contemplative for a brief moment, before he finally nods. "If that is what you wish, then consider it done." 

 

(Junmyeon writes out to King Myeongjong the very next morning, his letter containing only three succinct characters indicating the date.)

 

❅

 

Truth be told, Junmyeon hadn't expected Yifan to _really_ fulfil his promise to Junmyeon from that afternoon. Yifan has been swamped with new trade lines to consider and fresh laws to be debated with his ministers for the last few weeks leading up to Junmyeon's birthday, after all, and Junmyeon half-anticipated for Yifan to be unable to make time for him.

Not that Junmyeon has been looking forward to it, really, but he hopes his mission could gain some forward momentum from this excursion. 

He was taken by surprise when Yifan mentions for him to get ready by dawn over dinner the night before, in order for them to be at the meadows before the sun hangs high above their heads. Even if he's not supposed to react in such a manner, Junmyeon is sure his eyebrows had shot up at Yifan's words, mouth dropping open unattractively. The murmurs of displeasure from the rest of the concubines and consorts in the dining hall with them fell on deaf ears, and Yifan sternly reminded them to know their place, that they had no right to object to it. 

And, even though Song Qian had kept mum about the issue, savouring her food quietly as several other concubines voiced out their discontent, Junmyeon could feel the resentment radiating off her too, her eyes cold when she looks at Junmyeon from across the room. 

Junmyeon makes a silent reminder to watch his own back when he's on the palace grounds. He doesn't doubt they're not above ordering someone to cause him bodily harm, when their jealousy spirals out of control. It's always difficult to defend against those who attack from the dark, because you never know when they'd strike. He should know.

A horse-drawn carriage awaits Junmyeon at the entrance to his chambers the first thing in the morning, and his eyes widen a little when he steps in and finds Yifan already seated within. There's still sleep in Yifan's hooded eyes, lacking in the usual sharpness that defines him while he's at Court with his ministers, but the corners of Yifan's mouth pulls up into a rare smile when he sees Junmyeon. Junmyeon quietly greets Yifan good morning, and then they're off. 

Throughout their brief journey, Yifan and Junmyeon exchanged some information about their lives—though Junmyeon had to fabricate a large portion of his past to not raise suspicion—and Junmyeon could see that Yifan's actually a warm person under all the power he yields. Junmyeon also learns that he's someone who holds great aspirations for his nation, yet worries about the consequences of his decisions towards his people—he doesn't want them to suffer from unjust rulings, and would try to distribute the nation's wealth equally to the best of his abilities. 

Much like King Myeongjong, however, most of Yifan's consorts and concubines have been wedded for the sake of politics. In order to stabilise the nation and to prevent the nobles from turning against him for the sake of their insatiable greed, Yifan had no choice but to marry these men and women to keep them happy, and to infuse royal blood into their lineage. Junmyeon is no exception to that rule. 

He is mildly sympathetic when Yifan tells him the only person he's ever loved and married—another consort named Lu Han, a beautiful man who is never afraid to speak his mind—had begged Yifan to let him leave Weiyang Palace, unable to bear the poisonous and often deadly infighting that takes place in the _hougong_. Even Empress Song Qian is a candidate to bear the offspring of the royal family, hand-picked and instated by the Dowager Empress against Yifan's protests. Yifan also enumerates how he had, in a fit of rage and heartache after Lu Han's departure, declared that should he catch wind of such animosity happening again, then the culprits will be exiled from Chang'an for good. No one has taken over the title of the Imperial Noble Consort on Yifan's Court ever since. 

Junmyeon wonders if that's the reason why Song Qian has never openly antagonised him yet. 

For the last leg of their journey to the meadows, Yifan had fallen asleep in the carriage under Junmyeon's coaxing—he knows Yifan is forcing himself to stay awake just to keep Junmyeon company, judging by the way his eyelids keep sliding shut every other minute. Yifan's caring nature shines through even then, something which is a rarity when he's in Weiyang Palace, the dragon's robes highlighting his authority and sealing his responsibilities to keep his nation together. 

It's a pity the nation will not have its Emperor for long. Revenge is still revenge.

The urge to drive his dagger through Yifan's chest while he's fast asleep is strong—he's defenceless and completely vulnerable in such a state—but Junmyeon firmly reminds himself it's an inopportune moment to strike. There is a great number of soldiers surrounding the carriage they're in, riding on the back of horses, their weapons threatening when they're displayed for the world to see. Junmyeon would be dead within the matter of seconds before he can even escape, if they all converge upon him. Not a very noble way to die, he thinks. 

So, in order to take his mind off the matter, Junmyeon pulls the blinds apart, staring out the window of the carriage and admiring the passing view instead. He's instantly mesmerised. 

Huaxia is indeed blessed with a sprawling mountainous area—a geological feature that grants them superiority in terms of defence. It's difficult for Huaxia's enemies to see the soldiers from afar, and it's much too late when they finally realise they're being ambushed—something which Junmyeon has learned over the years through the texts found in Songak's imperial library, detailing on the possible reasons why they might have lost the war. If there's one thing Junmyeon is sure, it's the fact that Goryeo is still very much upset over their loss in the Huaxia-Goryeo war, and the subsequent shrink in size of their nation. They are still very much intent on avenging themselves to make up for the humiliation. 

It's why Junmyeon is here in the first place, playing prince and marrying the Emperor of Huaxia to get closer to the man, in order for him to carry out his mission. 

He knows they've arrived at the meadows when he sees a wooden pavilion erected in the middle of it, surrounded by flowers of various colours in full bloom. Even the gentle spring breeze carries with it the calming scent of nature, caressing his senses and making Junmyeon smile, a soft sigh of content leaving his lips. One day, when this is all over and done with, he'd like to take some time off to travel the world, to broaden his horizons and learn new things. 

But today, Junmyeon finds himself reaching out for the sleeping Emperor, and lightly shaking him awake to alert him of their arrival. He will have to play the role of a gentle spouse for a while longer.

 

❅

 

"Your Highness, did you know that His Majesty is extremely good at playing the _dizi_?"

Junmyeon looks up at the question, eyebrows raised because, no, he does not. There's a mischievous grin on the man's—he is Wang Jiaer, the head of Yifan's royal guard who also doubles as the General of the imperial army, and clearly one of Yifan's most trusted men in Weiyang Palace—face, when Yifan lets out an audible groan that is uncharacteristic of the Emperor. Yifan has let his uptight façade down that morning, considering there's only them and several of Yifan's personal maids who can all be trusted to keep a secret, and it's a refreshing change, a reminiscent of that rainy afternoon Junmyeon had spent alone with Yifan, discussing poetries with the soft pitter-patter of the falling rain as company. 

"Really?" Junmyeon asks, not even bothering to hide his amused smile as he turns to look at Yifan. "Is it possible for me to goad you into showing me, Your Majesty?" 

Yifan's cheeks colour pink; again uncharacteristic, but Junmyeon doesn't mind learning of this brand new side of Yifan. At least he's not as cold as he comes off at first sight, and perhaps Yifan is more trusting towards Junmyeon than he really lets on. "General Wang is exaggerating. I am nowhere near adept at playing the _dizi_ , and will only make an embarrassment of myself."

"There is no need to be humble, Your Majesty," General Wang teases, producing a bamboo flute with a flourish, prostrating before Yifan to present the Emperor with the musical instrument. "This humble servant will be more than blessed to be able to listen to your song." 

The other servants who are within hearing distance emulate General Wang's gesture, and Junmyeon barely represses his laughter when Yifan sighs in defeat and flashes a wry smile in Junmyeon's direction. 

"I don't suppose you would let me off the hook, too, Concubine Jun?" There's a bit of pleading in Yifan's voice, but Junmyeon only shakes his head. 

"I insist, Your Majesty. You did promise to grant my wishes, for today is the day we celebrate my birth, did you not?" Junmyeon tells him, and Yifan's shoulders visibly slump. 

"Indeed I have, and an Emperor never goes against his decree," Yifan concurs, picking the instrument up from General Wang's hands and ordering his servants to stand. "Very well then. I must first and foremost forbid all of you from ridiculing me, should I commit a mistake." 

Satisfied with their reassurance—no one lies to an Emperor and survives, that much is certain—Yifan takes in a deep breath and purses his lips over the blowhole. For someone who downplays his abilities so much, Yifan is surprisingly good at playing the instrument, just as General Wang had said. A soft, sorrowful melody fills the air, starting low before the pitch climbs, delivering a wonderful story depicting a person's longing—for a lover, perhaps, or for the return of a loved one; Junmyeon makes a mental note to ask Yifan to tell his tale, later.

Junmyeon finds himself closing his eyes as he soaks up the melody, his heart wrenching at the sad tune. He hasn't heard of such beautiful sounds in a long while, considering how he was barred from showing his existence back in Goryeo, and was disallowed from partaking in any celebratory affairs going on in the palace, and Junmyeon wonders why Yifan doesn't play the flute more often. 

The beautiful song ends in a wistful note, just as Junmyeon feels a lone tear sliding down his cheek, feeling incredibly touched by the wordless tale. He's in awe by Yifan's ability to tell a story without words, and is about to voice his praise, when the sharp sound of an arrow cutting through the air jolts him into attention. 

He opens his eyes just in time to see the head of said arrow piercing a guard right through his chest, and the man falls backwards with a loud thud against the wooden platform, lifeless eyes wide open. Several heartbeats of stunned silence envelops the group, all obviously confused by the sudden turn in events, and General Wang is the first to regain his bearings, drawing his sword and standing before Yifan and Junmyeon as he bellows out a loud command:

"Protect His Majesty and Concubine Jun!" 

It's only then that Junmyeon remembers with a start, what this outing is supposed to function as—a perfect disguise to get Junmyeon closer to the Emperor, and gain his trust. He berates himself for letting the matter slip from his mind, but he forces himself to remain calm. He can't possibly let anyone know of their plans, and for that to happen, he needs to act as natural as possible. 

Chaos falls upon the meadows soon after, when a group of assassins emerge from their hiding place, swords gleaming beneath the afternoon sun as they slice through the air and into flesh. The sweet song of the birds is promptly disrupted, replaced instead by the harsh clang of metal, and something akin to regret bubbles within Junmyeon's chest. He had been enjoying himself, too. 

But their plan has been set in motion, and Junmyeon needs to make full use of this opportunity to prove his loyalty to Huaxia and its Emperor—a charade, of course, though no one but Junmyeon needs to know. 

The assassins are ruthless, cutting down anyone who stands in the way between them and Yifan, painting the green of the meadows scarlet with the blood of now-lifeless bodies of soldiers who aren't quick enough to react. Their advancement is halted when faced with Yifan's royal guard stationed in the immediate vicinity of the wooden pavilion, however, and several assassins even lose their lives to the swords of the better trained guards. 

Nevertheless, a fatal flaw exists in their defence, and Junmyeon is probably the first to take note of it, when he turns to look at Yifan and sees it out the corner of his eyes. With the guards having charged forth to fend off the advancing assassins, the back is left wide open for any other attacks to take place, and the guards wouldn't have enough time to get back to protect Yifan. The leader of the group of assassins evidently notices the opening, and he immediately gathers several men to follow after him, sidestepping the clashing group of men in front of the pavilion without much difficulty, when the rest of Yifan's royal guard are actively engaged in battle. 

That's when Junmyeon leaps to his feet, and makes a grab for the sword abandoned on the ground by the soldier who was first felled by the assassins. Junmyeon doesn't know if King Myeongjong had informed the assassins to not attack him, but he's definitely not sticking around idly to find out. These assassins are highly trained and adept, and Junmyeon might just lose his life here if he's much too complacent. Yifan, who had remained calm all this while, cries out in alarm at Junmyeon's actions, evidently not expecting his concubine to jump into the thick of the fight. 

"Stay back, Yifan! I will deal with them!" Junmyeon tells him, then tunes out the rest of the commotion happening around him in order to focus. 

Junmyeon swings the sword forth with all his might just as one of the assassins strike at him, parrying the attack with relative ease. His muscles protest a little at the strain—it's been a while since he had last trained with a sword—but Junmyeon grits his teeth and pushes forth, kicking at the assassin before slashing him right across the abdomen. Junmyeon deftly spins around in his position and stabs yet another assassin who creeps up behind him right in his chest, sword piercing through flesh and eliciting a pained scream before the man crumples to the ground, lifeless. 

It's the first man Junmyeon has ever killed in his life—his training mostly involved sparring sessions with the best fighters of Goryeo, but King Myeongjong has never required him to end a life before; he only needs to kill one person, and that is Yifan—but he doesn't let the guilt cripple him. Not yet. It's becoming increasingly clear that this group of assassins have no regards for anyone here on the meadows, if the heavy blow after heavy blow they're landing on him is anything to go by. He doesn't even have to ask to know what exactly King Myeongjong had told them: _Kill the Emperor and anyone else who tries to get in your way_. 

Junmyeon jumps in shock when the shrill clash of metal sounds too uncomfortably close to his right ear, and his eyes widen when looks in that particular direction, only to realise Yifan had blocked a potentially fatal attack from another assassin for Junmyeon. He hadn't noticed Yifan carrying his own sword, but it's so distinctively _his_ that Junmyeon actually blinks in awe—its hilt is made of ivory of the highest quality, carved with intricate patterns which symbolise the Emperor's status. The fine scales of the dragon is unmistakable from this distance. 

"If you're trying to protect me, then you should at least pay attention," Yifan's teasing voice is a bit strained from the way he's trying to push the assassin back, but it's effective enough to yank Junmyeon out of his thoughts. He flashes Yifan a tight smile, and then goes back to fending off the group of killers aiming for Yifan. 

They fight back to back for a long while, unable to move a single inch away from the pavilion to wider grounds, because the group of assassins are relentless in getting to Yifan. Junmyeon catches the worry-fraught expressions of General Wang in the distance countless times, evidently distressed that Yifan and Junmyeon are left fighting for their own lives while General Wang and his men are still trying to stave off the rest of the attackers. Junmyeon could see that General Wang fully intends to take his place by Yifan's side, but whenever he tries to break away from the clash occurring right in front of the pavilion, one of the killers would immediately intercept him midway and keep him occupied that much longer. There is urgency in General Wang's movements, each hack less precise than the one preceding it, and Junmyeon rather hopes he doesn't get himself injured. General Wang is a nice man after all, one of the few rare persons in Weiyang Palace who'd talk to Junmyeon earnestly, without any ulterior motives hidden up their sleeves. 

He doesn't know how long they've been trying to subdue the group of assassins, but Junmyeon tries not to let the strain in his arms distract him. His silk robe is completely soaked with sweat by then, with more rolling down the sides of his face, and Junmyeon rather wishes they could end this soon. The fight between the other half of the assassins and Yifan's royal guard is only beginning to see the signs of abating, the enemy's number beginning to dwindle, and General Wang fights all that more earnestly, kicking one of the masked men in the chest and finally breaking past to get to where Yifan is. 

It's Yifan's turn to be distracted this time, when he sees his trusted guard rushing to their aid. The assassin he's currently engaging evidently sees an opening, and he knocks Yifan's sword right out of his grip before bringing Yifan down to the ground, the heavy object falling to the wooden flooring with a loud thud and sliding far away from Yifan's reach. Junmyeon's eyes widen when he sees the assassin hovering over the visibly stunned Yifan, and the moment the man raises his sword, Junmyeon throws himself between the weapon and his spouse without even thinking. 

_Protect him if you must_ , King Myeongjong's words only surface belatedly, and Junmyeon holds on to that thought, tries to justify his aberrant actions. _He must not die on the meadows just yet._

The sharp stab of pain makes his vision go white when the tip of the sword pierces through Junmyeon's stomach, but the assassin doesn't get to drive his weapon any further into Junmyeon, when Junmyeon swings his sword upwards and slices the man's arm clean across his elbow joint. General Wang and several of his men make it back to the pavilion just then, his face drained of colour when he sees the blood spreading across Junmyeon's robe, the sword still embedded in Junmyeon's flesh. He roars angrily at the sight, channeling his fury into slaying the rest of the assassins for harming the Emperor's concubine. 

Yifan is by Junmyeon's side almost immediately, wrenching the sword out of Junmyeon's abdomen and throwing it aside. He then scoops Junmyeon into his arms and shakes him gently to keep Junmyeon awake. "Jun. Junmyeon, don't fall asleep," he pleads quietly, and Junmyeon feels oddly relieved to see Yifan safe and unharmed. There is worry and anguish in Yifan's brown eyes, and his hand is trembling as he tries to compress the bleeding wound in Junmyeon's stomach. It makes Junmyeon feel a little confused, because they haven't been married long enough for Yifan to hold such emotions towards him. 

He doesn't get to clarify, though, when the pain sears through his senses once again. Junmyeon hisses, but forces a smile in a poor attempt to hide his agony, reaching up to touch Yifan's cheek in assurance. "I am fine, Your Majesty," Junmyeon whispers, unable to trust himself to speak any louder. "Thank God you are safe." 

"Shh, stay still," Yifan urges, looking around frantically in search of something. Possibly a cloth, because Junmyeon's pale blue robes has been stained crimson red by now, and the bleeding from his wound doesn't look like it's stopping any time soon. "Do not fall asleep, Jun. Keep your eyes open. Talk to me. Jun. _Jun_ —"

Yifan's frantic words becomes increasingly muddled by the moment as Junmyeon's vision swims again, the blood loss taking its toll on Junmyeon's body. The strength slowly slips out of his fingers, and despite Junmyeon's determination to stay awake as Yifan is telling him to, he soon finds his consciousness ebbing away along with his strength. 

The last thing Junmyeon remembers is Yifan calling out for him, before his world completely fades to black.

 

❅

 

Suspended between a state of wakefulness and sleep, the haze in his mind is difficult to lift, no matter how hard Junmyeon tries to do so. His body feels as though it's made of lead, heavy and unyielding, and his limbs aren't cooperating with him even when he tries to move them. It's almost far too tempting to let himself fall back into the murky depths of sleep, when the exhaustion is entrenched bone-deep within him, but Junmyeon actively fights against it, especially when he can feel the dull throb of pain coming from the direction of his abdomen.

He _knows_ he's not supposed to feel that way. Instantly, the warning bells ring in his head, and Junmyeon finally manages to force his sleep-sticky eyes open after much difficulty. And the first thing he realises when he wakes is the fact that he's in a completely unfamiliar room. 

That thought alone is more than enough to make Junmyeon shoot up in bed, heart pounding in his chest at the implication and the undertones of danger pounding in his head. It's apparently a huge mistake, though, when the pain explodes razor-sharp over his abdomen, and Junmyeon yells aloud, supporting his weight on an outstretched hand. Even then, his arm trembles violently beneath him, nails curling into the flesh of his palm as he tries to ignore the agony he's feeling. 

"Your Highness!" Someone exclaims in surprise, barely catching Junmyeon in time when his arm gives way, thereby preventing him from landing on the bed hard. In his pained daze, Junmyeon can barely make out the concerned face of General Wang hovering above him. "You are injured. Please do not overdo it and lie still instead." 

It's only then that Junmyeon remembers what exactly happened on the meadows, where a group of assassins had attacked them while Junmyeon and Yifan were out on an excursion. It's a plan formulated by Junmyeon and King Myeongjong to gain Yifan's faith, of course, and this is the sacrifice Junmyeon had made, by jumping in front of an assassin's sword and taking the attack to protect Yifan. If he doesn't manage to win over Yifan's trust, Junmyeon doesn't know what else will. 

He also becomes acutely aware of the fact that he's practically naked, the bandage wrapped tightly around his abdomen and the silk blanket covering the lower half of his body the only things protecting his modesty, and Junmyeon's cheeks pink. He's not used to flaunting his body around people he barely even knew; even when the palace maids draw his bath for him, Junmyeon would refuse to step out of his robes until they're out of the room, leaving him with his own privacy—and it isn't even because he needs to put away the dagger hidden beneath his underrobes. 

To distract himself from the embarrassment—it doesn't seem as though General Wang would leave his side any time soon, if the way he's standing next to Junmyeon's bed is any indication of it—Junmyeon averts his gaze and licks his chapped lips to moisten them a little. "Yifan—His Majesty. Is he safe?" He asks instead, voice hoarse and throat parched, making him wince at the discomfort. "Where is he?"

"He is well, thanks to you," General Wang reassures with a smile, then gestures towards the long settee by the window. "He is asleep over there, in fact. His Majesty has been resting here in your chambers for the last few days."

Junmyeon, who is just about to turn to look in the direction of the window, is momentarily taken aback by General Wang's statement, his eyes growing very wide. "Days? I lost consciousness for _days_?!" Junmyeon exclaims, bewildered, and General Wang practically flinches at his tone. 

It seems Junmyeon's voice is much too loud in the enclosed space, though. Yifan stirs in his sleep at the same time that Junmyeon lets out yet another groan of pain, and there's panic on Yifan's expressions when he sees Junmyeon bending over in agony. Yifan immediately hops off the settee which he had been resting on to make his way to Junmyeon's bed, ignoring the servants who have gone on one knee in greeting. 

"Junmyeon, you're awake," Yifan breathes, and Junmyeon wonders if he's imagining the relief in Yifan's words. There are dark circles beneath Yifan's eyes when Junmyeon looks closer, but he allows himself to relax in Yifan's hold when Yifan wraps a warm arm around his shoulders. They're soon left alone when Yifan orders the servants out of the room, which Junmyeon is grateful for. He's mortified enough to find at least five other pairs of eyes on his topless form, and he doesn't think he'll be able to live it down any time soon. 

"How are you feeling?" Yifan speaks up again, once the room is devoid of servants. His voice is warm as he caresses Junmyeon gently, and Junmyeon has never felt more comfortable in his life, despite the dull throb in his abdomen. "You should not have done that. You could have lost your life, if the assassin's sword had stabbed you through your vital organs." 

"Worse for the wear, really, but I will live," Junmyeon tries to crack a smile, though he's sure it comes off as a grimace instead. Yifan doesn't comment. "I could not have forgiven myself if you were hurt, Yifan. I am more than glad that you are alive and unscathed," he continues to say. It's true; Junmyeon remembers how relieved he had been, when he'd managed to save Yifan just in the nick of time. _He has to die by my sword, and not anyone else's_ , Junmyeon tells himself even now, trying to make sense of his feelings. It's the only plausible explanation he can come up with. 

"And what about me?" Yifan asks, frowning down at Junmyeon. The urge to reach up to smooth out the frown lines on Yifan's forehead is overwhelming, though Junmyeon manages to rein in his desire. Instead, he focuses on the warmth spreading across the bare skin of his left shoulder, where Yifan's thumb is drawing idle circles upon as he stares intently at Junmyeon. There is nothing but sincerity in Yifan's gaze, and perhaps a healthy bit of affection thrown into the fray. "Do you think I'd be happy, seeing you getting injured because of me? I was worried to death when the Imperial Healer said that you had lost a large amount of blood, and would take some time to regain your consciousness." 

"Is that why you had ended up sleeping in my chambers for the last couple of days?" Junmyeon hedges, biting on his lower lip as he looks up at Yifan. It's somewhat endearing, when Yifan's cheeks colour at Junmyeon's question, but at the same time, it also confirms General Wang's earlier statement. Junmyeon doesn't understand _why_ Yifan would do that, though, when Junmyeon's nothing more than a lowly concubine on his Imperial Court, a tribute from Goryeo to top it off. Yifan doesn't have the need to sit by Junmyeon's bed, when he has more pressing matters to deal with. 

Then again, Junmyeon isn't complaining. He has never received such attention back in Goryeo before. 

"Did Jiaer rattle off on me again? I will see that he is punished accordingly," Yifan huffs, though Junmyeon knows that Yifan doesn't mean it at all. General Wang is much too precious a friend and ally for Yifan to punish for such a petty reason. 

"He means well," Junmyeon tells him, subconsciously reaching up to cup Yifan's cheek. He can feel the beginnings of a stubble on Yifan's chin, and it makes Junmyeon wonder if Yifan had left his chambers at all, while Junmyeon was still out cold on the bed. "You should sleep, Yifan—" Junmyeon says again, and when Yifan tries to argue that he's been sleeping, Junmyeon cuts him off with a frown. "—on a _proper bed_ , not a settee. What would the nation do when her Emperor is not well enough to rule over her?" 

At least the fight drains out of Yifan at Junmyeon's words, and he smiles softly as he lowers Junmyeon back onto the bed, fixing the covers over him. Junmyeon's lids involuntarily flutter shut when Yifan gently caresses his hair. "I shall leave you to rest then, Jun. I will see you again in the morning." 

Junmyeon immediately wraps his fingers around Yifan's wrist when Yifan turns to leave—again _involuntarily_ , Junmyeon tells himself, because he doesn't want to dwell upon his subconscious desires; it's much too dangerous for him to tread into those waters—and Yifan raises a curious brow at him. "You don't have to. Leave, I mean. There is enough room on the bed, and—" he splutters a little when he realises how embarrassing his words are, but it's too late for Junmyeon to take them back, when Yifan is already turning back to face him, a smile pulling at the corner of his lips and lighting up his already handsome features. Junmyeon ignores the way his heart stutters at the sight. "—it is much too late. So... stay for the night, if you will." 

Yifan doesn't need any more coaxing, merely nodding briefly and shedding his outer robes, before climbing into bed with Junmyeon once he puts out the candle. Yifan's presence is so incredibly warm beside him, and Junmyeon falls into an easy slumber despite the ever-present pain.

 

❅

 

Thankfully, the stunt Junmyeon had pulled in order to save Yifan's life is more than enough to earn his complete trust. Yifan spends a lot more of his time with Junmyeon these days, much to the displeasure of his other concubines and consorts, but no one dares to voice their thoughts, when it's apparent that Junmyeon is rapidly gaining Yifan's favour.

That notion is cemented when Yifan announces before his Court of ministers that Junmyeon has been granted the title of Noble Consort, one of the highest classes available in his _hougong_. Then again, nobody seems surprised by Yifan's move; to risk your life for the Emperor will win you many things in life, and not many people are bold enough to make such a decision. After all, it seems as though every single denizen of the palace possesses the inherent trait of being calculative with their actions. If something does not bring adequate benefit to themselves, then it will never be in their consideration. No one is stupid enough to voluntarily bring harm to themselves when they're only going to suffer even more in the long run. 

Junmyeon is the same as everyone else. With his mission at hand, it becomes increasingly important for him to gain Yifan's favour and affection, so that Yifan would let his guard down around Junmyeon. 

He's already beginning to see the signs of it happening, when Yifan orders his bodyguards to stay away as he brings Junmyeon on a tour around the palace grounds. Junmyeon suspects that Yifan had asked his Secret Guard to not shadow his movements, too. There's a distinct lack of the quiet rustle which follows them wherever they go, and it's exactly what Junmyeon needs to plot his next step. 

Besides, Junmyeon is also secretly glad that they're left alone for the most part, albeit for completely different reasons. Yifan is a lot more open with his feelings and thoughts with Junmyeon this way, and he's very willing to share his past, telling Junmyeon stories of when he was younger and making Junmyeon laugh with interesting anecdotes. He even discovers that the scar on Yifan's cheek is the result of an accident, whereby Yifan had hit his face against the sharp edge of a rock while playing in the gardens when he was younger. 

Somehow, getting to know Yifan on a personal level makes him feel more human, and less of a godlike person being put on a pedestal. 

It makes Junmyeon belong for once, but he doesn't stop to think what that might signify. 

(Junmyeon also discovers from Yifan's lips about the group of assassins who had attacked them at the meadows, when he's recovered enough from the injury to sit up in bed. 

They were only able to keep one man alive in the end, though Yifan and his guards quickly discovered that the assassin had his tongue cut off, effectively rendering him unable to speak. He had refused to write down the name of his master despite being tortured repeatedly, too. In the end, they had no choice but to execute him, for commiting an act of high treason.

The knowledge leaves a bitter aftertaste on Junmyeon's lips. He wonders if King Myeongjong had deliberately sliced off their tongues to ensure the assassins' silence, a safety measure to prevent them from betraying him.

Even the mere thought of it is sickening.)

 

❅

 

Junmyeon feels restless. The sound of the horses' hooves clopping against packed earth doesn't help alleviate it at all, and his hands are getting clammier by the minute.

In a strange turn of events, Junmyeon finds himself seated in a horse-drawn carriage with a dressed-down Yifan by his side. He wouldn't have been this nervous if it were yet another of their excursions to tour Huaxia, but it isn't. In fact, they're currently on their way to Goryeo, and it's the major reason behind Junmyeon's anxiety. 

Yifan had suddenly suggested that they made a trip to Goryeo—just Junmyeon and Yifan—in order to pay King Myeongjong a visit. Yifan had reasoned that he's supposed to pay his respects as the King's new son-in-law when Junmyeon had asked, and Junmyeon couldn't find it in himself to object to Yifan's decision. After all, if would seem odd if Junmyeon would refuse to visit his own father, even though it's far from the truth. 

He's anxious about the visit because he doesn't know how much King Myeongjong has told the rest of his Inner Court about Junmyeon's existence, as well as his assumed identity as one of Goryeo's precious princes in order to marry Yifan. If anyone present during the meeting between King Myeongjong and Yifan is remotely jealous about Junmyeon's brand new extent of authority on Yifan's Court, they might even deliberately expose Junmyeon's identity, and Junmyeon would have been executed on the spot—perhaps even under King Myeongjong's immediate orders.

It's a dangerous predicament, and Junmyeon can't afford to have any slip-ups. 

The only consolation Junmyeon can get from the situation is the fact that Yifan had sent forth a messenger on his behalf, in order to alert King Myeongjong of their impending visit. He's worried someone might notice his pet pigeon's frequent disappearance from its cage, and suspect that he's up to something. 

"You seem worried. Is something the matter?" Yifan's soft voice asks just then, and Junmyeon jumps a little when Yifan takes Junmyeon's clammy hand in his warm ones. He'd been asleep until a short moment ago, and Junmyeon hadn't noticed him waking up. Junmyeon wonders if his expressions can be read like an open book. He hopes not. 

Junmyeon clears his throat and shakes his head. "Just a little tired, is all. I was not able to sleep well the night before."

"Excited to meet your father again?" Yifan enquires, and Junmyeon's heart constricts. If only Yifan knew that Junmyeon's father is long dead and buried. If only Yifan knew his father was the one who had killed Junmyeon's father on the battlefield. 

"Yes," Junmyeon chokes out the lie, forcing himself to smile. "It has been months since I have last seen _Pyeha_ , and I've heard that _Pyeha_ has been feeling under the weather lately." 

"Worry not," Yifan reassures him, wrapping an arm around Junmyeon's shoulders and urging him to lean against Yifan's body to rest. Junmyeon doesn't put up a fight, feeling himself melt into Yifan's side. He's so incredibly warm, even without his usual thick robes on him. "He will get better soon. You should rest your eyes. The journey is still long, and you are still recuperating from your injuries."

Junmyeon nods briefly, and despite his active efforts in keeping himself awake, he's soon lulled to sleep by Yifan's quiet humming.

 

❅

 

Their entourage has just crossed Dumangang, and is in the midst of entering a quaint town at the border when Junmyeon wakes next. The stretch of road is as bumpy as Junmyeon remembers it to be, having crossed it several months ago to get to Goryeo when he was to be wedded to Yifan, and Junmyeon finds that he can no longer rest easy.

It's already late afternoon by then, the summer sun shining mercilessly upon them, which prompts Yifan to order their entourage to rest. It would be cruel for them to march on like this, when it's clear that the guards are growing tired from the journey. Junmyeon is rather impressed by Yifan's empathy; most royalty do not hold such high regards for their subjects, preferring to reach their destination as quickly as possible to escape the mid-summer heat. 

While the guards and the horses are resting up beneath the shade provided by several trees, Junmyeon takes the opportunity to tour the town with Yifan by his side—just the both of them, because Yifan is convinced that Junmyeon can fight well enough to protect themselves if the need should ever arise. It's best if they did not draw too much attention to themselves, anyway. The guards have no choice but to obey Yifan's orders to stay put. 

Then again, Junmyeon doesn't think anything could have prepared him for the sight he's about to see in the town. He remains rooted in his spot when he passes through the town's gates, horrified when he finds it in a derelict state. The roads are ill-maintained, and the only buildings which remain spotlessly clean are the ones belonging to the government. There is a great number of homeless people begging on the streets, though their existence remains ignored because the other citizens of the town are in no position to be handing out aid themselves either. They merely cast apologetic looks at these beggars before hurrying on with their lives. 

As much as Junmyeon hates to admit it, the loud gossip around him is crystal clear to his ears, too. It's almost as though the commoners can no longer be bothered to conceal their displeasure for the ruling regime, openly criticising King Myeongjong's incompetency and his failure to provide for his subjects. What surprises Junmyeon even more, though, is the way the guards patrolling the city are pretending not to hear these criticisms, even though they can take these commoners to task for disrespecting the King. In fact, it seems as though they're quietly agreeing with the commoners' sentiments, from the way they're shaking their heads in lamentation, whispering amongst themselves as they pass Junmyeon by. 

Junmyeon's head spins. This can't be happening. Junmyeon had eavesdropped on the Court sessions on several occasions while he was still in Goryeo, and there had been promises of aid for the citizens living along the borders of Goryeo who have been hard hit by the recent floods. Now that he's witnessing the living conditions of the citizens of this very town, though, Junmyeon begins to wonder if those were but mere empty promises after all. And if so, where has all the money gone to? 

Yifan's touch is on his elbow when Junmyeon realises it next, his presence anchoring Junmyeon to reality. "Jun, are you quite alright? You seem extremely pale," he asks, and there's an undertone of concern and a slight hint of panic in Yifan's voice. 

Junmyeon gratefully holds on to Yifan's broad hand when he offers it. "I'm fine. It's just— I was not expecting this." 

Yifan casts a wary look at the situation around them, then turns his attention back to Junmyeon. Surprise is written all over his face. "Is this why your father was desperate to make an official alliance with Huaxia, by having you marry me? Because your nation is facing financial constraints?" 

"I did not think that the country's finances are in such a dire state. The ministers have been feeding completely contrasting information to _Pyeha_ ," Junmyeon nods numbly, even though he knows the precise reason for King Myeongjong's arrangement. Frankly, he's no longer sure what is it that King Myeongjong wants at this point of time, but he isn't going to admit it to Yifan. It's a confession which will lead to his immediate demise. 

"I think you have seen enough," Yifan tells him, wrapping an arm around Junmyeon as support. Junmyeon is kind of glad Yifan is there with him; he might not have taken the situation too gently otherwise. "Come on, let us return to the carriage." 

Junmyeon doesn't object.

 

❅

 

King Myeongjong appears as though he's aged _years_ since the last time Junmyeon had seen him, the wrinkles on his forehead a lot more prominent than before, due to the amount of frowning he's been doing. His hair is also greying at a significant rate, and he doesn't seem like he's of very good health either.

Throughout the brief dialogue between Yifan and King Myeongjong, Junmyeon takes note of the way he keeps hiding a cough behind his kerchief, occasionally glancing worriedly at the fabric before he quickly hides it from view, only to retrieve it from the inner lining of his royal robes again mere moments later. Junmyeon isn't sure if he's imagining it, but he thinks there might even be a trace of blood staining the kerchief. 

He doesn't get to question King Myeongjong about it, though. He doesn't think he has the right to do so, when he's nothing but a commoner playing prince. 

The rest of the Inner Court is mercifully empty by the time Yifan and Junmyeon had arrived, which alleviates Junmyeon's initial worries of having his true identity exposed. Only those who know of King Myeongjong's precise plans are allowed to stay during the meeting, but Junmyeon can't help feeling restless still, when Crown Prince Joongi keeps casting distrustful glances in Junmyeon's direction while Yifan is preoccupied with the conversation between him and King Myeongjong. 

It doesn't come off as much of a surprise when Prince Joongi asks to speak to him after King Myeongjong finally retires to his own chambers to rest. Junmyeon ignores the intense desire for Yifan to stay by his side during the conversation, because _he's not supposed to feel this way_ , but he also refuses to acknowledge what exactly it signifies. He reluctantly bows in greeting when Yifan is whisked away by the palace guards, presumably being escorted to the private chambers where he's supposed to rest for the next few days before they return to Huaxia.

Prince Joongi's expression is hard once they're finally left alone. Junmyeon gulps, quickly bowing in greeting as a commoner should to a prince. He hasn't forgotten his true status, after all. 

"Do not think that you can do whatever you want on these grounds, just because you are married to Emperor Wu, or because _Pyeha_ deems you worthy enough to serve him directly. Remember your place; you are but a lowly commoner as far as Songak identifies you," Prince Joongi starts, his gaze cold as he stares at Junmyeon's bent form. He hasn't given his permission for Junmyeon to straighten himself, and Junmyeon isn't stupid enough to cross him. Junmyeon knows exactly how dangerous the Crown Prince is, underneath the calm exterior.

Rumour around the palace states that Prince Joongi has no qualms in killing anyone who disobeys him; Junmyeon knows for a fact that it is true. 

"I am not bold enough to forget my roots, Your Highness. But it is indeed true that I am still bound to my assumed identity, and the need arises that I should act as such," Junmyeon says. 

"I am under the impression that you are dallying with your mission," Prince Joongi points out again, turning around so that his back is facing Junmyeon. It's a clear sign that he's brushing Junmyeon off, and Junmyeon barely holds himself back from straightening in surprise at the accusation. "I hope you have not forgotten what you are supposed to do." 

"I have not, Your Highness. I am still eager to serve _Pyeha_ to my utmost capacity," Junmyeon promises, even though the words taste bitter on his own tongue. Junmyeon's heart is wavering ever so slightly after what he's seen in the border town, and the desire to dig for the truth is beginning to rear its head. He wants to find out what exactly is stopping the aid from reaching the people before he makes his next move. 

"You better. I hope _Pyeha_ has not misplaced his trust in you." 

Chewing on his bottom lip, Junmyeon braves himself and speaks up again. "Please pardon this humble servant for his insolence, Your Highness, but have you heard about the grouses of the people at the grassroots?" 

His question manages to grab Prince Joongi's attention, and he swerves around sharply to regard Junmyeon with anger in his eyes. Junmyeon immediately lowers his head once again; commoners are not allowed to stare at those with royal blood in the eye. "Remember where you stand, Kim Junmyeon. You are in no position to question such matters." 

"I am merely concerned about the country, Your Highness. It is for the greater good. The citizens have nothing good to say about _Pyeha_ and his administration, as far as things are going. The promised aid has not reached their hands, and they are suffering in silence," Junmyeon trudges on despite Prince Joongi's warning, because he knows Prince Joongi is the only one who would listen to him. The fact that the prince is still here, instead of walking away at the first opportunity is more than enough proof of it. 

At the very least, Prince Joongi seems a bit troubled by the information. Junmyeon knows he's an extremely capable helper to the King, but even then his hands are figuratively tied behind his back. The ministers can easily influence King Myeongjong's mind with several cleverly crafted lies, and Junmyeon would rather not see Goryeo head down the path of destruction if he could do something about it. 

"I will investigate it. You would do well to continue playing your assigned role. Do not meddle where you are not supposed to, and do not let _Pyeha_ down. Failure is not an option," Prince Joongi says in the end, and Junmyeon bows in acquiescence. He knows very well what he needs to do. Junmyeon merely needs the opportunity to make his move.

 

❅

 

The evening is filled with awkwardness when Junmyeon finally returns to his chambers after the private meeting with Prince Joongi, and realises belatedly that King Myeongjong had arranged for him to share the chambers with Yifan. While Junmyeon understands the necessity—they're bound by the oath of marriage, even though it hasn't been consummated—it doesn't make him feel any less comfortable with the idea.

He doesn't really know where his relationship with Yifan stands. The time when Junmyeon had gotten injured saving Yifan was the only instance where they had shared the same bed at all, and neither of them had brought up about the matter after that, even though they have gradually grown closer over the following weeks. Even then, there has been nothing but friendly touches and hugs, nothing intimate enough to get Junmyeon blushing at the mere thought of it. 

And yet, here he is, finding himself standing stiffly at the doorway of the guest chambers, fiddling with the hem of his sleeves as Yifan glances up at him questioningly. Yifan is already seated on the lone bed in the room, outer robes divested and folded neatly on the chair, a basin of clean water placed atop the wooden stand next to the bed. If Junmyeon had walked in several moments later, Yifan would probably have been completely naked by then. 

He quickly stops himself from continuing on that thought. 

"Are you not coming in?" Yifan asks, a hint of amusement in his words. In fact, Junmyeon thinks Yifan might even be teasing him subtly. 

Junmyeon clears his throat in embarrassment. "I, uhm— I think I will sleep there for the night," he says, gesturing towards the daybed situated by the window, then shuts the door behind him. "It is much cooler there in the night." 

The excuse sounds lame even to his own ears, and Yifan sees through it almost immediately. "Are you perhaps... shy?" His words effectively stops Junmyeon in his tracks. Junmyeon feels his cheeks flame up when Yifan merely _laughs_ at him. The nerve. "Have we not shared a bed before, Junmyeon? What is stopping you from doing the same this time?" 

Despite himself, Junmyeon pouts at Yifan. "That is quite different, Yifan. I was injured, and you were exhausted from the poor quality of sleep you had been experiencing back then. Now you can have the whole bed to yourself. I do not mind taking the daybed." 

Yifan gets up from the bed and crosses the room in several large strides, stopping right in front of Junmyeon and taking Junmyeon's smaller hands in his. Junmyeon can't help but feel awed by how Yifan's hands easily dwarfs his, but he quickly pulls away when he realises that he's not supposed to do this. He has a mission to kill Yifan, and he can't possibly grow too fond of the Emperor. 

If Yifan is offended by Junmyeon's gesture, he doesn't comment. Instead, he's still looking tenderly at Junmyeon, and it makes Junmyeon's heart constrict. He's torn between allowing himself to lavish in Yifan's attention, and shutting Yifan out completely. Conscience is telling him to do the latter; his selfish desires, the former. 

"You can share the bed with me. It is large enough to fit the both of us, and I would rather not see you being uncomfortable in your own home," Yifan tells him, a broad hand coming up to cup Junmyeon's cheek. Junmyeon's pulse stutters when he sees the intensity of emotions in Yifan's eyes, and he swallows hard. "Are you perhaps agonising over the thought of being in close proximity with another man? Does our marriage pact bring you discomfort?" 

"No!" The answer is out of Junmyeon's lips much too quickly, and he flushes again when he realises he had just raised his voice at Yifan. Junmyeon whispers an apology, then lowers his gaze. "No, Yifan. It's not like that. I—I like men, too. Our marriage arrangement does not bother me in the slightest. I'm just... _unsure_ about this, considering it hasn't been long since we've gotten married."

"Is that all?" Yifan asks, and Junmyeon wonders if he's imagining the relief in Yifan's words. "Then there is no cause for you to worry. I have told you once—I will not force you into doing something you are not mentally prepared for. We have all the time in the world, and I am patient enough to wait."

"Do you really mean it?" Junmyeon glances up at him, surprised, even though he knows he shouldn't be. Time and again, Yifan has proven himself to be the perfect gentleman, allowing Junmyeon to take things at his own pace, never pressuring Junmyeon into giving in to Yifan's desires. Perhaps in a different lifetime where he is not required to assassinate Yifan, Junmyeon would probably be head over heels in love with the man.

Unfortunately, this is not that perfect lifetime. 

"An Emperor does not go against his words," promises Yifan, and Junmyeon feels his heart thump against his ribcage once again. "I will wait for as long as you will be around."

 

❅

 

The three-day trip with Yifan to Goryeo passes by in a flash, and before Junmyeon even realises it, they're already seated in the carriage and on their way back to Huaxia. Somehow, the last couple of days is almost dreamlike for Junmyeon, when he's spent every single waking hour of his touring Goryeo with Yifan, and falls asleep with Yifan's arm pillowing his head. He's never felt happier in his life, but Junmyeon also knows that this happiness will not last. It's not _supposed_ to last.

Junmyeon has to keep reminding himself that he has an important task at hand, and it's greatly needed to anchor Junmyeon to reality. He had found himself drifting away on more accounts than one, though mercifully the guilt is there to drag him back from reaching the point of no return. 

In fact, Junmyeon had attempted to kill Yifan while the Emperor was fast asleep. His dagger was easily within reach, fingers quickly clamping around its hilt and raising it above the level of Yifan's heart, but Junmyeon couldn't see his actions through, for reasons unknown. 

In the end, he had to lessen the guilt by convincing himself it's a bad idea to assassinate Yifan while they're still in Goryeo. Junmyeon could very well act horrified to find Yifan's lifeless form lying next to him in the morning, but Yifan's death on Goryeo soil would also potentially trigger the wrath of Huaxia. They will definitely retaliate against Goryeo's failure in protecting an important guest of Yifan's status, and Goryeo would go up in flames. Junmyeon doesn't doubt that Crown Prince Joongi would oust his identity when push comes to shove, and would have Junmyeon executed in order to protect Goryeo from destruction. What's worse is the fact that King Myeongjong will not sacrifice his country to protect Junmyeon, either.

To betray someone for your own benefit is the way of the royals, after all, and Junmyeon is powerless in the face of it all. He's nobody but a dispensable pawn, only agreeing to this mission to avenge his father's death. Junmyeon knows that very well. 

Then again, the worst has yet to come; Junmyeon learns of this belatedly. Mayhem is waiting for him and Yifan in Weiyang Palace when they return to Chang'an, with the Dowager Empress demanding that they both paid a visit to her residence the moment they set foot on the palace grounds. Junmyeon doesn't think Yifan has had a hand in arranging the sudden meeting, if the confused look he exchanges with Junmyeon is anything to go by. 

Needless to say, Junmyeon's heart sinks to the pit of his stomach at the very first sentence the Dowager Empress throws at them. 

"I hear rumours going about, saying you have not consummated your marriage. Is this true?" The Dowager Empress asks, looking pointedly at Junmyeon even though the question is clearly directed to them both. Of _course_ the Dowager Empress would suspect that the root of the problem lies with Junmyeon—Yifan has several other men as concubines on his Inner Court, and he definitely won't be uncomfortable with the idea of sleeping with yet another person of the same gender. 

And, as much as those rumours are true, Junmyeon can't fathom who might have discovered the piece of information which was supposed to be known only by Yifan and himself. _Have_ they been so terribly transparent? 

Before Junmyeon can even respond, though, Yifan has already taken a step forward, shielding Junmyeon from the Dowager Empress's line of sight. "Mother, this is a private matter between Noble Consort Jun and I—"

"Is it, or is it not true?" The Dowager Empress interrupts Yifan through gritted teeth. It's obvious she isn't going to let the matter rest until the truth is out in the open, and not even Yifan can weasel himself out of the subject. What surprises Junmyeon, though, is the way Yifan reaches behind him to grab hold of Junmyeon's hand, giving it a firm squeeze, as if telling Junmyeon _I'll be here for you, don't worry_.

And Junmyeon doesn't. Yifan is a very dependable person, and has never rescinded on his promises before. Junmyeon doesn't think he'd start doing that now, either. _An Emperor does not go against his words_ , Yifan has told him once. Junmyeon is inclined to believe in him. 

"It is," Yifan says in the end, resigned, but he doesn't let go of Junmyeon's hand through it all. "I do not want to force Noble Consort Jun into doing something he is not comfortable with, and that includes consummating the marriage when he is not ready. It is not as easy as you think it is, Mother." 

The Dowager Empress's face turns bright red at Yifan's words, evidently not at all pleased that he's trying to argue with her. "You may be the Emperor of Huaxia, my _son_ , but forget not that I am still the head of the Inner Court, of all your consorts and concubines," she reminds him, and Junmyeon can feel the way Yifan's muscles stiffen, his grip on Junmyeon's hand tightening. "A marriage has to be consummated no matter what, and you have both delayed it for far too long. This is my ultimatum: if you do not complete the union of your marriage by the end of this week, then I shall pronounce this marriage annulled. Noble Consort Jun will be stripped of his title and tried for treason. He will be punished on the grounds of attempting to deceive the Emperor into the sanctity of marriage for his personal gain. Am I understood?" 

Only then does Junmyeon squeeze Yifan's hand back, making a silent promise of his own. He can feel Yifan's surprised gaze on him when he steps out of Yifan's shadow to stand abreast with him, but he doesn't return the look. Instead, Junmyeon finds himself bowing in acquiescence to the Dowager Empress, his heart twisting from the guilt once again.

"I shall do as you wish, Your Highness."

 

❅

 

The ceremony to consummate their marriage takes place on the very next night, under Junmyeon's personal request. He's had the night to think it through, and he decides it's best if he gets it over and done with while he still has the courage to do so. They're supposed to re-enact the entire procession, for the Dowager Empress perceives the ceremony as auspicious, though everything passes by in a haze, and Junmyeon finds himself in Yifan's chambers much sooner than expected.

Yifan's private chambers is a reminiscent of their wedding night, having been decorated with draperies of varying shades of red. Through the sheer veil covering his head and obscuring the most of his field of vision, Junmyeon notices that there is a curtain of red beads separating the main area from the bed, something which Junmyeon doesn't quite remember from before. He wordlessly obeys when the master of ceremony parts the beaded curtain for him to pass, and he tries his best to make himself comfortable on the bed, sitting on its edge as he awaits Yifan's arrival. It proves to be a difficult task to accomplish, when his heart is thundering in his chest, making Junmyeon fiddle restlessly with the material of his robes.

Junmyeon is deep in thought when Yifan finally walks past the double doors to his chambers, dressed in robes equally as red as Junmyeon's, and Junmyeon jumps at the sound. It elicits an amused, soft laugh from Yifan, though he soon quiets down when Junmyeon raises his gaze. Junmyeon _would_ have been offended, if he hadn't caught on to Yifan's expressions and realised that Yifan is just as nervous as Junmyeon feels. 

It's a peculiar sight. Junmyeon has never associated Yifan with the word 'nervous' before, considering the way he always carries himself with confidence, always so sure of himself. Even when Yifan would dress himself in commoners' clothing, there was always an aura of authority about him. But not tonight. Tonight, it's almost as though Yifan has stripped himself bare, showing Junmyeon the truest side of himself—one which Junmyeon suspects no one else is privy to, apart from the long-gone Imperial Noble Consort Lu Han. 

Junmyeon doesn't exactly know what to think of it. It definitely doesn't help calm his thundering pulse, however. 

Even though it feels like déjà vu when Yifan removes the red veil from Junmyeon's head and smiles at him, something is significantly different in the atmosphere between them that night. For one, some feelings are definitely involved between them at this point of time, though Junmyeon refuses to acknowledge or to make sense of the way Yifan is making him feel. He firmly reminds himself that everything which transpires later tonight is strictly for his mission, in order for him to break the final barrier in gaining Yifan's unconditional trust, and he repeats these thoughts in his head until he begins to believe in it. 

"Are you sure you want to go on with this?" Yifan asks quietly, a warm hand on Junmyeon's cheek, gently pulling Junmyeon out of his thoughts. Even in the dim candlelight, Yifan still looks as breathtaking as ever. "I can stop, if you want. We can pretend we have consummated our marriage tonight."

Junmyeon shakes his head and casts a look at the window, and Yifan follows suit. A vague silhouette can be seen standing guard outside Yifan's room, and needless to say, the Dowager Empress must have ordered for her spies to ensure Yifan and Junmyeon do not go against their word. "Her Highness has ears everywhere around Weiyang Palace, Yifan. It would not be prudent for us to continue pretending. Remember what Her Highness had said." 

Yifan is silent for a brief moment, contemplative, before he finally nods. "If that is what you desire. I have been told that the first time would hurt a great deal, however. I will be gentle."

Junmyeon is tempted to tell Yifan that _he knows_ , because this won't be the first time he's slept with another man. He holds his tongue, though; the revelation will definitely incur Yifan's wrath. Instead, Junmyeon smiles at Yifan and says, "I trust you." 

And he really does. All his life, Junmyeon has been taught not to trust _anyone_ at all, because putting faith in another person means that he's setting himself up for disappointment, that he's giving room for others to betray him and to hurt him. King Myeongjong had even asked Junmyeon to place a certain level of distrust in him, because Junmyeon can never tell if someone's showing every façade of themselves. But somehow, Yifan makes Junmyeon _want_ to believe in him unconditionally, and Junmyeon can't even explain _why_. Perhaps it's in the way Yifan looks at him with affection and respect in his eyes. Perhaps it's in the way he holds Junmyeon, making Junmyeon feel treasured in ways no one has ever made him feel before. 

Perhaps—

The first press of lips makes Junmyeon's heart soar. It's drastically different from the messy stolen kisses he had shared with Kyuhyun in the past—there is surety in the way Yifan kisses him, one hand on Junmyeon's neck as he changes the angle, lips firm yet soft at the same time. His senses are alight as Yifan gently sucks on his tongue, fingers running down his spine as though playing a silent melody on his _dizi_ , and he doesn't even offer any resistance when Yifan unties his robes and slips it off Junmyeon's shoulders. 

It's as though his skin is on fire when Yifan moves away from his lips to kiss a heated trail down his neck, and Junmyeon laughs, feeling ticklish when Yifan pauses to lap at the prominence of his collarbone. The laugh is soon swallowed up by a moan, though, when Yifan retaliates by swirling his tongue around Junmyeon's nipple and biting on it, making Junmyeon arch right up into him, and it's Yifan's turn to laugh this time. 

His grouses are soon thrown to the wind when Yifan moves lower down his body still, nipping on supple skin and leaving stark red marks against Junmyeon's pale complexion. He can't fathom how it's possible for Yifan to make him lose all forms of coherent thoughts this easily, but Junmyeon isn't complaining. Rather, he lets himself be lost in the throes of pleasure, letting Yifan pull moan after moan out of his parched throat, hips lifting off the bed cooperatively when Yifan tries to remove the last of the clothing articles on him. 

Junmyeon sighs in relief when his half-hard cock is finally released from the constraint of his pants, but Yifan doesn't let that reprieve last for long, immediately wrapping his well-kissed lips around Junmyeon's girth. It's insane, how Yifan's making him feel, and Junmyeon doesn't want this moment to end. He encourages Yifan on by repeating his name over and over again, the sinful noises leaving his lips an indication of how well Yifan is pleasuring him, his fingers digging into Yifan's scalp to keep himself anchored to reality. Yifan's mouth is burning hot around his cock, sucking and licking up underside of his length before he swirls his tongue around Junmyeon's head, lapping up the precum beading at the tip, and he repeats this until Junmyeon is painfully hard and leaking from Yifan's ministrations. 

He almost comes when Yifan suddenly pulls away, and Junmyeon practically _whines_ at the loss, feeling horribly disorientated by the sudden loss of heat around his cock. Yifan's grinning face hovers above him moments later, before he surges forth to swallow up Junmyeon's complaints with another searing kiss, and Junmyeon finds that he is so, so weak for Yifan. It's somewhat unfair that Yifan gets to reduce Junmyeon to such a blubbering mess this easily, but the way Yifan's making him feel more than makes up for it.

Junmyeon is again left confused when Yifan gets up from the bed after leaving one last chaste peck on his swollen lips, though he clenches around air in anticipation when he realises Yifan is retrieving a bottle of scented oil from the chest at the end of the bed. Yifan's still smiling when he rejoins Junmyeon, body pliant as he allows Junmyeon to wrap his arms around his neck to pull Yifan in for more kisses. 

"Are you ready?" Yifan asks between presses of lips, tenderly smoothing a thumb over Junmyeon's cheek.

"Yes, Yifan. Please—" is all that Junmyeon manages to choke out, before Yifan's spreading his thighs wide open for easy access. Junmyeon swallows hard as he watches Yifan coat his long fingers with liberal amounts of scented oil, and his jaw falls open at the intrusion of the very first finger. The burn from the stretch makes his eyes water—it's been far too long since the last time he's had anything in him like this, and it's not like he can pleasure himself while in the confines of Weiyang Palace either, when there's always someone stationed outside his room for security purposes. No one, not even Junmyeon himself, is supposed to engage in sexual acts with him until Yifan claims his body. The pain makes his eyes water, but Junmyeon forces himself to focus on his breathing instead, letting his muscles get used to the stretch. 

Yifan is as gentle as he had promised he'd be, slowly moving his finger while he peppers even more open-mouthed kisses along the length of Junmyeon's collarbones. He only moves his fingers in earnest when Junmyeon practically begs him to, a protective hand wrapped around Junmyeon's smaller frame as he works up a steady rhythm. Junmyeon's practically seeing stars by the time Yifan's two fingers deep in him, and he's already coming untouched when Yifan finds his prostate over and over again, ribbons of white painting both their abdomens in short spurts. 

Yifan kisses him like Junmyeon's the most precious thing in the world to him, whispering praises and words of encouragement as Junmyeon comes down from his high. Junmyeon smiles at him through his daze, arms still wrapped around Yifan's neck, and Yifan kisses him once more before shifting a little in his position, slipping his drenched robes off and discarding it on the floor where Junmyeon's pile of clothes lay. Junmyeon's mouth waters when he sees Yifan's impressive cock, already hard and red and curling towards his stomach, and he subconsciously spreads his legs wider, eager to accommodate. 

Yifan is surprisingly attentive to Junmyeon's comfort, despite the fact that they're both trying to chase after their pleasure—more so for Yifan than Junmyeon, considering how Junmyeon has already had his first release of the night—and he slots a pillow each beneath Junmyeon's head and waist, then proceeds to slick his cock up with the scented oil. Junmyeon's head lolls back when the tip of Yifan's cock stretches his hole open, the mixture of pleasure-pain shooting up the length of his spine, and he moans aloud to let Yifan know that he's enjoying every moment of this. The stretch is still a little too much for Junmyeon, even after being scissored open on two of Yifan's thick fingers, and he digs his fingers into the flesh of his thighs, trying to distract himself from the most of it.

Again, Yifan doesn't start moving until Junmyeon signals him to, his fingers massaging soothing circles around Junmyeon's rim. Junmyeon feels so incredibly full when Yifan fills him to the hilt, and so incredibly satisfied when the head of Yifan's cock hits his prostate. It hadn't been like this with Kyuhyun, more pain than pleasure when they had both been experimenting. Junmyeon thinks he might actually enjoy being fucked like this more often. 

Yifan makes sweet love to Junmyeon that night as the candles burn out, rocking slow and sensual into him, and Junmyeon can't stop the sinful moans from falling from his lips like a fervent mantra, calling out for Yifan repeatedly amidst his cries of _yes, yes, oh god please_. He can't even find it in himself to be embarrassed; the guards stationed outside Yifan's chambers to spy on them have most probably evacuated their positions by now, anyway, giving them privacy that's due. 

He wonders if he's so incredibly light, though, when Yifan easily carries him up from the bed and flips their positions around without even slipping out of Junmyeon, but Junmyeon's so deep in the throes of pleasure that he can't be bothered to figure it out. Yifan leans against the headboard and lets Junmyeon settle in his lap, fusing their mouths together when Junmyeon manages to take the hint and starts grinding down onto Yifan's cock, lifting his hips before sinking down fully once again. 

Several more minutes pass before Junmyeon's already coming for the second time that night, with Yifan's fingers wrapped around his cock and his other hand splayed across his ribs. Yifan follows him soon after, coating Junmyeon's insides with his warm cum, exchanging open-mouthed, lazy kisses with Junmyeon as they both come down from their orgasm high. 

Later, when they have cleaned themselves up, Yifan and Junmyeon lay together in bed, arms wrapped around each other as sleep slowly lures them in. Junmyeon continues to press lazy kisses along the angle of Yifan's jaw, careful not to leave marks because his other spouses would not be happy, while Yifan strokes his back gently, humming to a quiet tune. They're both naked under the sheets, an intimate act as far as Junmyeon is concerned—Kyuhyun never stayed the night after having sex and vice versa, for fear of getting caught—and Junmyeon can feel himself slowly growing half-hard again as his cock rubs up against Yifan's strong thigh. 

Yifan only laughs, though, telling him he should sleep, and promises with a silent _tomorrow_. 

Junmyeon can't fathom why the anticipation builds, but he's already dozing off into dreamland before he can mull over it.

 

❅

 

His eyes are bright in darkness of the chambers when he wakes in the middle of night, feeling sore all over. Junmyeon tenses a little when he feels the warm presence of another person beside him on the bed, but his sleep-addled brain quickly catches up and reminds him that he had just solemnised his marriage with Yifan. It's only then that Junmyeon relaxes in his position.

He remembers the proceedings of the night all too clearly, from the way Yifan whispered soft encouragements in his ear and told him how good he was for Yifan, to the way Yifan's hips slammed against his as Yifan fucked earnestly into him, making Junmyeon lose all forms of coherent thoughts. He remembers the pressure of Yifan's lips against his own, and the dull pain scattered across his skin, a product of Yifan leaving marks on Junmyeon's body, marking Junmyeon as his possession. It's the best he's felt in a long while, and Junmyeon's soft cock slowly becomes filled with blood at the memory, eager to relive it. 

And then he remembers his mission, the reason why he had offered his body for the taking in the first place. He can't possibly relish in this feeling at all. Something akin to disappointment swells in his chest, but Junmyeon firmly pushes it out of his mind.

Carefully, Junmyeon extracts himself out of Yifan's hold, which proves to be difficult when his strong arms are wrapped protectively around Junmyeon's smaller frame. Thankfully, the sleeping Emperor doesn't rouse from the movement, merely burying his face deeper into the pillow, a satisfied smile playing on his lips. Junmyeon momentarily looks at him with fondness, before he catches himself in the act and shakes his head to lift the haze of sleep shrouding his senses. 

Shrugging his previously discarded robes on, Junmyeon quietly pads across the room to the chest of drawers where he had concealed his dagger before Yifan had joined him. This is the opportunity he's been waiting for—for Yifan to completely let his defences down around Junmyeon, in order for Junmyeon to carry out the task he's been entrusted with. It's even better this way, when there are absolutely no guards stationed outside Yifan's chambers, given their loud lovemaking earlier. Junmyeon can assassinate the Emperor and make his escape under the cover of the night, and no one would discover what he has done until morning looms and Junmyeon is long gone from Weiyang Palace. He hasn't spent the last couple of months perfecting his memory of the many escape routes on the palace grounds for nothing. 

Just as quietly, Junmyeon heads back to the bed where Yifan is still sound asleep, taking in the slope of Yifan's nose and the lines of his jaw for one last time. It's unfortunate that he has to rob Huaxia of such a capable ruler, but a job is still a job. 

(Junmyeon doesn't pause to mourn the loss of a gentle lover and a strong protector to him.)

With both hands firmly on the dagger's hilt, Junmyeon raises it above the level of Yifan's chest where his heart is beating in a steady rhythm, carefully taking aim. He can't possibly miss, for it would definitely wake Yifan up if he hits a non-vital point, and the guards would come swooping into the chambers to apprehend Junmyeon in no time. It's not his first time killing someone—he had ended the life of an assassin while saving Yifan—but somehow, Junmyeon's hands grow clammy at the mere thought of it. 

Still, he swallows hard to calm his nerves, and once he's mustered up the courage, Junmyeon drives the dagger down towards Yifan's chest—

—only to stop mere inches before the tip of the dagger pierces through Yifan's ribcage and into his heart. Frustrated, Junmyeon pulls himself together and makes his attempt again, but he finds that he _can't_ do it. The muscles in his arms are frozen stiff, refusing to budge no matter how hard Junmyeon wills them to, and they're trembling violently as Junmyeon grips his dagger more firmly. 

At first, Junmyeon's confused by his own hesitancy. Something in his heart is preventing him from delivering the final blow, even though the opportunity is wide open for the taking. And then horror looms when he realises just _what_ it is. 

Unbeknownst to himself, Junmyeon had begun developing feelings for the Emperor—the kind, protective, responsible, and headstrong ruler of Huaxia—and by the time he realises it, those feelings are already deeply rooted in his heart. It would definitely explain his continuous reluctance to kill Yifan off, and his constant yearning to be with the Emperor that grows with each passing day. 

But it doesn't matter. He's _not supposed_ to fall for Yifan, no matter what Yifan does. Right now, it remains to be seen if Junmyeon can really make his move. Even if he decides not to do it, it would incur King Myeongjong's wrath, and his identity as a fake prince would be out in the open. 

Either way, Junmyeon dies. 

Perhaps, it may not be such a bad ending after all, if he has to choose between his death and assassinating Yifan with his own hands. 

Shaken by the brand new revelation, Junmyeon quickly conceals the dagger once again, before returning to the bed on trembling knees. His heart pounds continuously against his ribcage even as Junmyeon settles beside Yifan once again, pulling the covers over himself and gripping tightly onto the silk material until it creases. He has half the mind to leave immediately, but Junmyeon doesn't know what to tell Yifan in the morning, when Yifan wakes up and finds the space next to him devoid of Junmyeon's presence. 

Junmyeon doesn't sleep at all for the rest of the night.

 

❅

 

The promised second round doesn't happen when morning looms. In fact, breakfast is eaten in Yifan's chambers in awkward silence, though more on Junmyeon's part than Yifan's. Yifan is still actively trying to get Junmyeon to talk, but he soon gives up when Junmyeon continuously gives one-worded answers and never really meets his gaze. It doesn't stop him from throwing concerned glances in Junmyeon's direction every now and then as he eats, however. Junmyeon thinks the worst part is that _he notices it_ , and Yifan's gesture makes Junmyeon grow even fonder of him, even though he knows very well he shouldn't.

In the end, Yifan asks if Junmyeon was feeling under the weather, to which Junmyeon only nods quietly. He has never been more glad to be allowed to retire to his own chambers for the rest of the morning when Yifan hears it, though the guilt resurfaces when Yifan sends a servant over with a tray of herbal remedies for whatever Junmyeon might have caught, later that afternoon. Junmyeon even had to turn away the Imperial Healer at his doorstep, telling the older man that he'd be fine after getting some rest for himself. The healer seemed conflicted, seeing that he was essentially ignoring the Emperor's orders by not examining Junmyeon, but Junmyeon assures him that he'll put in a word for the healer, if Yifan ever asks. 

He's sorely tempted to let Yifan know that whatever is bothering him can't possibly be cured, even with the best medicines and healers around. He is, after all, suffering from a disease that plagues the heart and mind, made worse by his inaction. 

The rest of the week consists of Junmyeon running to the library to hide himself whenever he catches wind that Yifan's coming over to his chambers for a visit. He doesn't care if it's a cowardly act by not acknowledging his own feelings, and he doesn't care if Yifan might be infuriated by the constant evading on Junmyeon's part. He can't find it in himself to talk to Yifan—not now, when he's still trying to figure things out—and the conflicting feelings of wanting to kill Yifan to avenge his father and Junmyeon's desire to have Yifan's affection doesn't seem to be abating any time soon. 

Above all, Junmyeon doesn't want his feelings for Yifan to grow even more than they already have. He knows there'll come a day when he _has_ to commit the deed of assassinating Yifan, when the pride and future of Goryeo lies in his hands, and he won't be able to do it if he ends up falling in lo—

Junmyeon refuses to think about it. 

Dahwa, the archive keeper, leaves Junmyeon alone for the most part, rarely ever interrupting Junmyeon's intense studying session until the curtain of night has fallen upon Chang'an. Even then, he'd tap Junmyeon gently on the shoulder, words quiet as he informs Junmyeon he has to lock up for the night. Junmyeon would blearily blink at the older man several times, before he regains his bearings and sense of time and nods in acknowledgement. Thankfully, by then, Yifan would have been exhausted from the long hours of meetings with his ministers, and would have retired to his chambers until the sun rises again in the morning. At least Junmyeon can rest well for the evening, thinking about nothing apart from how to accomplish his mission. 

(Junmyeon makes several attempts on Yifan's life that following week, from wanting to spike his food with a different sort of poison, to infiltrating his room in the dead of the night, but he finds that he _still_ can't do it.

He's doomed.)

 

❅

 

It's two and a half weeks since Junmyeon had started avoiding Yifan, when he finds the book which contains the details of the war between Huaxia and Goryeo years ago—the very one where his father had lost his life in—and his attention is immediately captured. At that point of time, Junmyeon has devoured at least half of the books in the archives, many of which contains beautiful poetry and various important moments in Huaxia's illustrious history. He's surprised he didn't come across this particular book much earlier, but Junmyeon wastes no time in pulling the copy off the mahogany shelf.

As usual, Junmyeon carries the book to a secluded table located at the back of the archives and lays it open on the surface, then grabs a chair as he begins scanning through the lines, completely immersed in its contents. It's not as though Junmyeon doesn't already know how the war had progressed. In fact, Junmyeon already has it completely memorised, owing to the amount of times he's gone through Goryeo's own records in the Imperial Library back in Songak, and can even recite it without much difficulty, if anyone happens to ask him to detail the war. But now that he has access to Huaxia's records, he's extremely interested to read their side of the story, and see how it compares to Goryeo's documentation. 

He's not at all surprised to find contrasting information between the two. In fact, he might actually be more taken aback if both Huaxia's and Goryeo's records match up completely, considering how historians are prone to glorify their own nation while penning the details of a particular event down; it's common practice to show their loyalty, after all. 

The more Junmyeon reads about Huaxia's records of the war, though, the more the seeds of doubt in him grow. There are in-depth analyses about the weaknesses in Goryeo's strategy—documentation which the Goryeo historians had only explored on the surface, as far as Junmyeon can recall. He also remembers how dissatisfied he'd been while reading them in the past, struggling to put the pieces together only to make even less sense of the reasons behind Goryeo's failure to conquer Huaxia despite their army's strength. Right now, though, it seems as though the pieces are gradually falling into place, painting a picture of corruption and favouritism which eventually led to the Goryeo army's own downfall. 

What shakes Junmyeon to the core, though, is the final few pages of the records. His insides grow colder by the minute, hand slowing down at every successive turn of the page, not really ready to find out what had happened during the final battle between the Huaxia army and Goryeo army, led by Yifan's late father and King Myeongjong respectively. Thus far, Huaxia's recordings of the war had been so drastically different from the ones Junmyeon had read in Goryeo—including the detail that Goryeo had started the war, and not Huaxia as Junmyeon had initially thought—and he doesn't know what else he should expect from the book on the table before him. 

The version of his father's death he knows is this: King Myeongjong was involved in a fierce one-on-one battle with Yifan's father, while King Myeongjong's three generals formed a protective barrier close to him, fighting off the other soldiers who were trying to charge at the Goryeo king. The fight was extremely protracted, neither able to gain the upper hand, and they were beginning to get worn out under the hot summer sun. That was when King Myeongjong's horse tripped from exhaustion, throwing its owner off its back. The Huaxia Emperor saw the opening he needed, immediately going for the kill, only to have his intentions seen through by General Kim. General Kim selflessly threw himself in the path of the Huaxia Emperor's sword, taking it right through his chest and sacrificing himself in order to save King Myeongjong. The war finally ended when General Kangin—General Kim's closest friend—surrendered on behest of King Myeongjong, and begged for mercy from the Huaxia Emperor, whom conceded the request.

Needless to say, Goryeo suffered from great humiliation from General Kangin's actions, and he was subsequently stripped of his position and exiled from Songak ever since. That is the basis for King Myeongjong's plans, and that's where Junmyeon comes into play—to avenge his father's death and to restore Goryeo's pride after fifteen long years. 

Taking in a deep breath, Junmyeon braces himself for what he's about to learn, reluctantly turning to the final page of the book. 

The blood rushes to his brain and makes his head spin by the time Junmyeon reaches the fifth sentence of the page. The sudden wave of nausea and giddiness hits him so hard that he has to grab onto the edge of the table to steady himself before he falls off the chair, and that's really the last thing Junmyeon needs. Dahwa would definitely alert Yifan if Junmyeon passes out from shock, and Junmyeon's still not ready to talk to him about _them_ , if it even exists. 

_The Goryeo king fought back to back with his most trusted general, Kim Chulmoo, while the rest of his subjects were busy fending off our troops,_ the wordings on browning parchment read. _It was clear that our troops were gaining the upper hand in this battle, when the Goryeo army was so ill-prepared and with such poor leadership from their own king. Our Great Emperor—may His Majesty be blessed with eternal health and longevity—went in for the kill, in order to end the unnecessary, protracted war that was causing much suffering to our people at long last. But what His Majesty had not expected to see was the way King Myeongjong had grabbed onto the back of General Kim's armour, taking him by surprise and yanking him in the way of our Great Emperor's sword. Needless to say, General Kim Chulmoo was sacrificed on the spot, while King Myeongjong took the opportunity to run away with his tail between his legs, only to never return again—a clear act of surrendering—granting our prosperous nation sweet victory._

Feeling the bile rise up the column of his throat, Junmyeon quickly slams the book shut, hoping that he could forget what he had just read. But it is an impossible task to accomplish; the words have been branded to the back of his eyelids, owing to the amount of time Junmyeon had spent re-reading those few lines over and over again, completely suspended in disbelief. He knows he shouldn't believe in these records—how true can Huaxia's depictions about Goryeo's side of the story be?—but part of him is inclined to take this version as the truth.

There has always been irregularities surrounding his father's death which Junmyeon could not figure out over the years. Even the general who'd trained Junmyeon in the art of fighting had lamented on more occasions than one, about the waste of talent resulting from King Myeongjong's banishment of General Kangin, and Junmyeon hadn't been able to figure out why his trainer would speak so highly of someone who has been branded as a traitor and exiled from Songak.

This makes a lot more sense than the records he's read back in Goryeo, adequately explaining the anomalies Junmyeon had never been able to decipher, and why King Myeongjong would always avoid talking about Kim Chulmoo's death. 

That's when Junmyeon makes up his mind. He _needs_ to find out the truth behind his father's death, and there is only one way to accomplish it.

 

❅

 

If there's anything Junmyeon is grateful for, it's for the fact that Yifan would always readily grant Junmyeon's wishes.

Yifan had been surprised, of course, when Junmyeon had suddenly asked for permission to return to Goryeo for several days, citing his need to visit the ailing King, but he'd been relatively agreeable with Junmyeon's request, telling him to stay safe and to keep out of harm's way. Yifan had even offered Junmyeon several of his best guards to escort him on his journey, but Junmyeon had declined. His freedom to move about would be severely restricted, and the last thing Junmyeon needs is for Yifan's guards to discover the truth behind Junmyeon's identity. 

Unfortunately, Junmyeon doesn't think he can fulfil Yifan's request to stay safe. He knows how dangerous his plans are, knows that he'd be executed without trial if King Myeongjong ever discovers that Junmyeon has paid a visit to the exiled general—it's considered treason to establish contact with outlaws—but it's all the more reason why Junmyeon needs to do this alone, under adequate cover and complete anonymity.

It's not an easy task, trying to locate an exiled general who lives in one of the towns in the borders of Goryeo, especially when everyone else refuses to speak of General Kangin for fear of being prosecuted needlessly. Thankfully, Junmyeon still has contact with Kyuhyun, whom in turn knows of the general's whereabouts. 

Junmyeon only finds him two days later, in the form of a hooded figure surreptitiously leaving a decrepit building which is supposedly the general's living quarters. He quietly follows after the man, making sure to keep a safe distance between them, lest the general realises someone's tailing him and decides to make a run for it—Junmyeon has been told that there were attempts on the general's life in the past, ordered by an anonymous person; he doesn't know why, but he suspects it might've been King Myeongjong himself. 

It's not until they've arrived at a deserted street that the man suddenly stops in his footsteps, turning around sharply to regard Junmyeon who couldn't get out of sight quickly enough. Junmyeon curses under his breath, but makes no move to run.

"Who are you, and why are you following me?" He asks, voice as gruff as Junmyeon remembers it to be. After all, General Kangin was his father's closest friend while they were serving in the army, and had gone through many a battle together. General Kangin used to visit their home frequently, and would even play with Junmyeon sometimes, when the young boy had asked with a toothy grin. 

It's unfortunate, how the war between Goryeo and Huaxia had eventually robbed Junmyeon of his family and everything he had ever known. 

Lowering the hood of his cloak, Junmyeon steps forth and smiles. "It has been a long while, Uncle Youngwoon. Have you been well?" 

There is confusion in General Kangin's eyes at first, probably trying to recount the amount of people who knew of his birth name, and would address him as such. It's not long before the realisation hits, and his pupils dilate in shock. " _Junmyeon_? Chulmoo's son, Junmyeon?" 

Junmyeon bows respectfully, glad that Kangin actually remembers him. Fifteen years have passed since the last time they've met, after all, and Junmyeon's sure he's changed a lot in terms of his appearance, growing up from that chubby little kid of five to the young man he is now. Besides, Kim Junmyeon was supposed to have disappeared from public eye after his parents' death. "Indeed."

Kangin hurries forth at the confirmation, grabbing hold of Junmyeon's arm and pulling Junmyeon's hood back up. "We must find somewhere quiet to speak. The streets are not safe," he says urgently when Junmyeon sends a questioning look in his direction, glancing around for invisible threats. 

Junmyeon doesn't object, and lets Kangin lead the way.

 

❅

 

Junmyeon is brought to yet another dilapidated hut in the outskirts of town after a short walk, though he's surprised to find that the place is well-kept, clean and free of dust. Kangin quietly closes the door behind them, barring it shut so that they won't be disturbed, then proceeds to peek out the window to ensure they haven't been followed all the way here. Junmyeon can't help but wonder what Kangin has been through over the years; time seems to have reduced the proud general into the neurotic man standing before him at this particular moment, and he feels sad for him.

"Why did you come? Do you have any idea how dangerous it is?" Kangin asks the moment he takes the other empty seat across the table from Junmyeon. His eyes are bloodshot, clear even in the dim lighting of the room, his nails digging into the wooden surface of the table as he leans forth. His breath smells of stale alcohol, and Junmyeon wonders if that's the culprit for the redness in Kangin's eyes. 

Junmyeon shifts uncomfortably at being scrutinised in such a manner, but doesn't avert his gaze. "I do. But I have something I need to ascertain urgently." 

Kangin raises a thick eyebrow at him. "And I am the only one who has the answer to the questions in your mind?" 

"Yes, Uncle Youngwoon," Junmyeon replies with a nod, amazed by how perceptive the man is. Then again, it's probably to be expected of someone who has lived half his life fighting in wars and plotting strategies to win them. "It concerns my father." 

"Chulmoo?" Kangin asks, evidently confused. "What do you want to know about him? Why _now_?" 

There's a degree of scepticism in Kangin's words which makes Junmyeon hesitate. What if his loyalty to King Myeongjong stops him from telling Junmyeon the truth? Either way, it's much too late to consider that possibility; he's locked in with a man from his distant past, and there's no saying how much he's changed, or how far into insanity he is. One wrong move, and Junmyeon might really end up dead. He surreptitiously reaches for the dagger concealed beneath his cloak. Just in case.

In the end, Junmyeon decides to just be honest with Kangin—mostly, anyway. "I have discovered a different set of records of the war. The one where my father died," he tries, watching closely for the changes in Kangin's expressions, looking out for any possible signs of danger. He sees none. 

Instead, Kangin's eyes widen marginally. "And just where did you find them?"

"Huaxia's archives," Junmyeon replies unflinchingly. "It differs from Goryeo's records by a great degree, and I am curious about the actual truth. _You_ are the only one I can find who was there on the battlefield, witnessing my father's demise." 

He conveniently leaves out the detail that essentially he could have asked King Myeongjong himself—though Junmyeon doubts the king would actually be truthful with Junmyeon, unless Junmyeon has concrete evidence to prove otherwise. Kangin is that vital link. 

"What do you want to know?" Kangin asks again, expressions now unreadable. 

"The truth. How did my father die?" Junmyeon presses on. "Did he sacrifice himself on his own accord, or did King Myeongjong betray him and made him the sacrificial lamb so that he could save his own hide, just like Huaxia's records had said?" 

The room is silent for a long while, before Kangin barks out a harsh laugh. "Huaxia's historians said that, did they?" Kangin muses, and there is visible relief on his gruff features. "They are more perceptive than I thought. And more inclined to the truth than they let on. Tell me; did they make a mockery of our great king in their writing?" 

He doesn't seem affronted by the possibility that their king is being mocked in the open, however. Junmyeon finds it odd. Anyone who's loyal to the king would have brayed at the mere thought of it, though Junmyeon supposes it's only normal for Kangin to react in such a manner, having been exiled without trial after contributing so much to the nation, and risking his life to protect it in the past. 

"No, it was all written in a very matter-of-fact way," Junmyeon shakes his head. "So is it true, then?"

Kangin's expression is immediately clouded with anger when he recalls the incident. "We _all_ trusted in him—Chulmoo, Jundae, and I. We trusted in King Myeongjong to fight with us to the end. After all, he did promise us that we would live together and fall together, for there is no reason to run a country when his friends are no more. We held on steadfastly to his words, and fought with all we had just to preserve the nation, in a war that King Myeongjong himself started out of greed," he tells Junmyeon, and with each passing moment, Junmyeon feels the dread within himself grow. 

"In the end, he _betrayed_ Chulmoo, dragging him into the path of that soldier's spear without warning, and had gotten him killed just to save himself. I had to surrender on behalf of him, just so the Huaxia Emperor would spare King Myeongjong and leave Goryeo alone. And in the end what do I get? _This_." He gestures vaguely at his surroundings, although Junmyeon knows what he's talking about. This life never should have happened to someone of Kangin's calibre. He could very well have continued to serve the nation, standing proud as the General leading Goryeo's Imperial Army, but one false accusation—from the monarch of his own country, no less—has reduced his life to a state of ruins. There is no way he can refute the claims, because who would trust in the words of a mere subject over the proclamation of their king?

Junmyeon's decision is made in an instant.

 

❅

 

Junmyeon counts his own heartbeats in the veil of the night. It's more calming than he'd initially thought, and it helps keep him on his toes as he lies in wait.

Security was difficult to penetrate, just like Junmyeon had remembered it, but at least now that King Myeongjong's most trusted guards know that he's the assassin sent to Huaxia to end Emperor Wu's life, they allow him pass easily enough. It merely takes a well-crafted lie, of Junmyeon claiming he needs to have a private audience with King Myeongjong regarding his mission, for them to allow Junmyeon to enter the king's chambers and leave them be for the evening. They even trust him enough to agree to not announce to anyone—including the king—that he's within. 

_It is a national secret of grave magnitude, and no one can know of it apart from His Majesty and I_ , Junmyeon had said in the most convincing manner he can muster. King Myeongjong must have instructed them to let Junmyeon pass as he pleased, too, for there were no further questions asked.

King Myeongjong's chambers is empty when Junmyeon sets foot within, the man himself probably still seated in the grand hall with his ministers reporting the nation's latest troubles to him. His health hasn't been the greatest of late—on a steady decline, even—but it's clear his ministers have little regard for it, pounding their ailing king with more problems than he can solve. Junmyeon knows Crown Prince Joongi is doing his utmost best to help out with the nation's affairs, but his power is restricted by the rest of the Cabinet, due to an ancient law which no one saw fit to change. It disallowed anyone but the King from holding absolute power over the government, and not even his princes could do much to interfere, unless the King passes on and a new monarch is instated. 

No matter; Crown Prince Joongi will sit on the grand throne soon enough. 

The brief talk with General Kangin has opened Junmyeon's eyes to the reality behind the scenes of Goryeo's governence—of betrayal of trust by the King and his glaring lack of capability in keeping his ministers in line. Corruption runs aplenty in the grassroots and amongst the nobles, money promised for aid of natural disasters going into the pockets of the already-wealthy, while the commoners suffer from the injustice. King Myeongjong doesn't even realise all this, having spent the last fifteen years after the war cooped up in the confines of the palace walls. He's never seen the way his subjects are suffering, never hears the grouses because it's all cut off and quelled before it even reaches the palace gates. His ministers, on the other hand, are painting a pretty picture of what's actually going on beyond Songak, joining hands in telling lies to soothe King Myeongjong's guilt. 

The truth is, Goryeo has never recovered from the war over the years. The imperial city of Songak is but a mirage, a lie crafted to blind the ruling government from the reality of life outside these city walls. Junmyeon has seen enough suffering along his journey to the capital city, has heard enough of the grouses at the grassroots which will never be relayed to the ministers on top. The image of Goryeo he's been taught about all his life has been shattered beyond belief, and it feels like he no longer knows his own nation, his own king anymore. 

His life is like a complete lie. The thought unsettles, _frightens_ him. 

Almost an incense's time has passed him by when Junmyeon finally hears footsteps approaching the King's chambers, and he quickly hides himself behind the draperies, deep in the shadows. His pupils constrict when candlelight floods the room, and he patiently waits as the palace maids help King Myeongjong to wash up after the long day. 

It's not until they're finally left alone that Junmyeon steps out of his hiding place, expressions stoic as he stands before King Myeongjong, dagger drawn and raised. The king stumbles backwards onto his bed out of surprise, and Junmyeon notices—impassively, if he might add—how pale and frail the once proud king has become. It hasn't even been a month since the time Junmyeon had returned to Goryeo to visit the king with Yifan, yet it seems as though King Myeongjong had gained several more years in age. 

"This humble servant wishes you a good evening, Your Majesty," Junmyeon says without bowing, a sign of clear disrespect for his king. He finds that he no longer cares what the king might think of him. "You seem... surprised to see me."

King Myeongjong doesn't call for his guards, even though he's still trembling at the sight of Junmyeon raising his weapon at him. Junmyeon doesn't know if the shock is impairing his judgement, or if it's the illness clouding his senses. Either way, time is on his side. "What are you doing here, Junmyeon? Are you not supposed to be in Goryeo?" 

"Can I not come visit my king, upon hearing of His deteriorating health?" Junmyeon muses, taking another step forward. King Myeongjong moves away equidistantly, a subconscious reflex on his part. "What sort of _loyal subject_ would I be, then?"

King Myeongjong's gaze flickers to the dagger in Junmyeon's hand and back to his face. "You do not appear as though you have come in goodwill."

Junmyeon pretends to be affronted by the king's comment, and lowers his dagger only ever so slightly. "I apologise for my insolence, Your Majesty. I did not realise." 

"What _is_ your intent, Kim Junmyeon? State it before I call the guards to escort you out," King Myeongjong snaps, already impatient. Junmyeon guesses he isn't as senile as he looks, but his patience for games is running thin, too. 

"See, _Pyeha_ , all these years I have been told that my father had died saving you on that battlefield. And I had believed wholeheartedly in that story, devoting my life to this mission to assassinate Emperor Wu for the sake of Goryeo. For the sake of avenging my father," Junmyeon comments offhandedly, though his eyes are watching every change in King Myeongjong's expressions closely. "Then I remember what you have said to me once, _Pyeha_ —that I should not trust anyone. I guess I really should have not." 

King Myeongjong narrows his tired eyes. "What are you trying to imply?" 

"You _lied_ to me, convincing me that my father died willingly on that battlefield to save you. But you _betrayed_ him, _Pyeha_. You betrayed him and let him be impaled by the sword of the Huaxia Emperor and left him to _die_ without even looking back," Junmyeon seethes, the hand holding his dagger trembling from fury. He'd never felt more betrayed in his life, to learn that everything he's been told thus far were nothing but well-crafted lies. "Then you manipulated my feelings of wanting to exact revenge on my father's behalf, and threw me into this marriage arrangement with Yifan so that I could assassinate him for _your personal gain_. Do you have any conscience left in you?" 

Junmyeon gets his answer in the form of a sardonic laugh, and it's a good enough confirmation of what Junmyeon has discovered over the past week. "It would have been so easy if you would just carry out the mission as you were told, instead of digging up so many unnecessary information about the past. What does it matter?" 

"It _matters_ —" Junmyeon spits, disgusted by King Myeongjong's lack of guilt, closing the distance between them both until the frail king is trapped against the wall. "—because you are using my father's honour to manipulate me. I swore to end the Emperor's life for the sake of avenging my father, and you have groomed me as such, manipulating my hatred for my father's supposed killer to commit the deed, when _you_ were the one who caused his death. _You_ are the actual killer of my father." 

King Myeongjong flashes an unrepentant smile at Junmyeon. Junmyeon slams his fist into the wall next to King Myeongjong's head out of anger, but the king doesn't even flinch. "Sacrifices are to be expected, Kim Junmyeon. I thought I have taught you as much? You would understand if you were in my position."

The bile rises up the column of Junmyeon's throat. "If it means neglecting my own people's suffering for the sake of chasing after my own pride, I would rather not _be_ you. Go to _hell_."

He doesn't provide King Myeongjong with the opportunity to utter another word, nor call for help in time. Junmyeon's dagger is raised in the next second, and he stabs the vile man right in the juncture of his neck, severing his great vessels with one strike. 

Junmyeon doesn't move for a long moment after King Myeongjong has stopped sputtering and breathed his last beneath him, overwhelmed by the sudden emptiness at the realisation that he's exacted his revenge on his father's behalf. It doesn't even matter that the monarch of Goryeo lay dead on the bed, blood soaking into the pale sheets—doesn't matter that he's committed the highest form of treason, punishable by death of the cruellest form. He's committed the deed he's been trained and groomed for, even though it's not his intended target, and Junmyeon feels _liberated_. 

Before he leaves the dead king's chambers, Junmyeon dips a writing brush he finds on the king's desk into the drying blood, and writes a letter addressed to the next King of Goryeo. He doesn't care if Crown Prince—no, _King_ Joongi—will recognise his penmanship; he will be long gone from Goryeo, becoming one with the shadows before anyone even discovers the late King Myeongjong's lifeless body. 

_Be not a king of your father's calibre, ignoring the suffering of your own people for the sake of your own glory, or you will meet his end, too._

 

❅

 

The candles in Yifan's chambers are still lit when Junmyeon makes it back to Huaxia in the wee hours of the morning, having rushed all the way from Goryeo on horseback. He must be poring over the parchments presented to him by his ministers on the nation's newest set of problems still, and Junmyeon has half the mind to leave him to his work until morning looms.

Then again, Junmyeon also knows the gravity of the situation he's gotten himself into. If Crown Prince Joongi ever resents Junmyeon for murdering the incompetent King Myeongjong, he would order for Junmyeon to be captured and brought back to Goryeo alive at all costs, just so they can torture him to death later. He would have to go into hiding if he ever wants to survive, and this is his final and only opportunity to speak to Yifan before he disappears for good. 

A pang of sadness hits him when Yifan's expressions light up the moment he sees Junmyeon slipping in through the windows. He doesn't even question Junmyeon's unconventional way of getting into his chambers, merely wrapping his strong arms around Junmyeon's smaller frame and pressing a kiss to Junmyeon's temple. The gesture makes Junmyeon's heart wrench even more. 

"Jun, you're back," Yifan breathes, and Junmyeon can hear the relief in his words. Despite his conscious efforts at not reciprocating the action—he knows he'll end up hurting even more if he does—Junmyeon finally caves and embraces Yifan tightly, trying to commit the lines of his body to memory. It might be the very last time he ever sees Yifan in this lifetime of his, after all, and Junmyeon wants to be selfish for once, the restrictive chains of his mission no longer holding him down. 

"I am, Your Majesty," Junmyeon affirms, voice quiet, his fingers digging into the soft fabric of Yifan's sleeping robes. Yifan's leaning his part of his weight against Junmyeon, a sure sign that he's already exhausted, and Junmyeon's heart aches for him. "Why are you still up? It is late. You should be resting."

Yifan pulls away to smile at him, his gaze intense as it rakes over Junmyeon's face, as though trying to memorise Junmyeon's features. "I cannot possibly rest well without you by my side, Jun. I haven't been able to, in the days that you have been gone." 

Junmyeon's pulse stutters a little at Yifan's words. Yifan can't possibly be in love with him too, _can_ he? "But you have no need to—"

"Hush," Yifan silences him with the soft press of his index finger against Junmyeon's lips. "My heart feels what it wants to. I cannot possibly stop it from missing you. How is King Myeongjong's health, by the way?" 

The blush is just starting to creep across Junmyeon's pale cheeks, when Yifan's sudden question throws him off, making him feel as though someone had just doused him with a bucket of ice cold water. It reminds him of the very reason he'd crept into Yifan's chambers in the first place. Junmyeon quickly extracts himself from Yifan's embrace, albeit regretfully, and pretends not to notice the disappointment that flashes across Yifan's handsome features. "He is—dead."

"What?" Yifan asks, though for some reason, he doesn't sound completely surprised to hear Junmyeon's words. "Was he already of such ill health? He did not seem to be in such a bad condition when we visited." 

Junmyeon shakes his head. "No. I have—" he pauses, swallows his nervousness, and tries to chalk up his courage. "—I have a confession to make. I killed him."

Yifan's eyes widen in disbelief at Junmyeon's admission, but his reaction is still much tamer than Junmyeon had initially imagined. "What? What are you talking about, Jun?" 

"I'm not who you think I am, Yifan," Junmyeon says quietly, averting his gaze in shame. There is no way Yifan would not hate him for this. "I am not a Goryeo prince. I never was. I was sent to assassinate you under the guise of a prince, orchestrated by none other than King Myeongjong himself," he continues, not allowing Yifan to speak, lest Junmyeon completely loses his courage to tell Yifan the whole story. "I was convinced by him that your father had killed mine on the battlefield all those years ago, and driven by the desire to avenge my father, I had accepted the mission." 

Through this, Yifan remains silent, listening intently to what Junmyeon has to say without interrupting him. He appreciates it greatly, even if he doesn't deserve such patient treatment from the person he was supposed to kill. "I had wanted to do it, you know—to kill you and return my father's honour, all while restoring Goryeo to its former state of glory," Junmyeon swallows against the invisible lump in his throat. It's difficult, having to admit all this to Yifan, but he's secretly relieved that he did not blindly complete his mission. He would've regretted it greatly, if he ever killed Yifan only to find out that he'd been played by King Myeongjong all along. 

"Then why did you not?" Junmyeon doesn't even realise he had fallen silent until Yifan speaks up. "Why did you not kill me, if that is your mission?"

There is no anger in Yifan's words, only curiosity. Junmyeon is confused. 

"Because I discovered the truth. Your father may be the one who impaled him with his sword, but King Myeongjong was the one who directly caused his death. So I—I killed him instead," Junmyeon says, then hesitates even more. In the end, he squeezes his eyes shut, and takes in a deep breath. "And I... I can't possibly hurt you when I _love_ you, even when I do not want to." 

Junmyeon's taken by surprise when Yifan pulls him into a crushing hug once again, his breaths warm against the cool skin of Junmyeon's neck. Junmyeon shivers in his hold. "Do you really mean what you said?" 

"You shouldn't have done that," Junmyeon tells him quietly, referring to the tight embrace Yifan's currently holding him in. "What if I still held the intent to assassinate you? I could have easily stabbed you from this proximity." 

"But you did not. If you truly intended to kill me, you would not have warned me, either," Yifan laughs; the sound is a little sad, a little broken. Junmyeon's heart breaks with him, knowing that their inevitable separation is coming soon. With Junmyeon's confession and his act of assassinating King Myeongjong, there is no way he will be allowed to remain in the confines of Weiyang Palace at all. He would count himself lucky if the Dowager Empress doesn't immediately haul him to the execution grounds upon receiving the news of King Myeongjong's death and Junmyeon's falsified identity.

"Am I wrong to say that your heart beats for me?" Yifan questions again, and Junmyeon's pulse speeds up in response to it. He both hates and loves that Yifan can affect him so easily, though he supposes that's the way it is, when he's so madly in love with the man in front of him. 

Junmyeon is defeated. 

"You need to let me go, Yifan, or have me executed on the spot," Junmyeon finally says after a long pause, relishing the final moments of him being able to feel Yifan's heart beating against his skin. He steels himself, and pushes Yifan away from him. "You know I no longer have a place in Weiyang Palace, not with my true identity, and certainly not with what I've done tonight. Not after the lies I have told to stay by your side." 

Yifan's replying smile is melancholic. Junmyeon wonders if his heart can possibly be more fragmented than it already is. "What if I told you I already knew from the start? That you were not a prince from Goryeo?" When Junmyeon's eyes widen, Yifan sees it fit for him to press on. "I have spies in Goryeo, who have told me everything I need to know. Still, I wanted to see for myself, if you were decisive enough to make the move. I know you have never killed before, not until that day on the meadows when you tried to protect me from the assassins. You were trained for the sole reason of killing me, were you not?"

There is nothing but confusion clouding Junmyeon's thoughts at this point of time, and his head spins from Yifan's own confession. "But why? Why did you not execute me from the beginning, if you already knew I was an assassin sent for your life?" 

"Because I was—and I still am—interested in you. You're intriguing, and I have never felt more at ease speaking to someone else apart from Lu Han. Those feelings eventually developed into love, and I knew I couldn't possibly let you go, despite the off chance that you might be faking that sincerity whenever you're with me," Yifan admits, and his cheeks are tinged a rosy pink. It's endearing. 

"Now you know," Junmyeon smiles, feeling the tightness in his chest gradually easing up. There is no greater happiness than to know that his feelings are reciprocated, that his intentions are clear as daylight to the man he loves. 

Yifan nods in agreement. "Now I know."

"But I still have to leave. There is no place for me here, when I am not of royal blood," he reminds Yifan, glancing worriedly out the window when he realises the sun is about to rise. He doesn't have much time left, before a messenger from Goryeo arrives at Weiyang Palace, announcing to the world about Junmyeon's deeds. 

There is reluctance in the way Yifan moves, but still he takes a step away from Junmyeon, smiling sadly back at him. "I know. If you do not wish to stay in Weiyang Palace, then I am in no position to stop you from leaving, either. But I definitely will not force you to stay at the risk of your life, or against your own free will. Go, if you must." 

Unable to hold his desires back, Junmyeon rushes forth to press a desperate kiss to Yifan's lips, wanting him to remember that Junmyeon's heart will always remain with him, here in Weiyang Palace. Yifan holds him just as desperately, taking everything Junmyeon has to give, and Junmyeon can even taste the saltiness of Yifan's tears moments later, a true reflection of his inner thoughts. At least Junmyeon now knows this—that Yifan is as much in love with Junmyeon as the reverse is true. 

When Junmyeon finally pries himself out of Yifan's embrace, tasting regret on his lips, at least he can manage to put a brave smile on his face, even when the tears are falling slowly from the corner of his eyes. "One day, if fate is on our side, we will meet again."

Yifan smiles back; it's radiant and full of promise, and it's the only thing Junmyeon needs right now to remember him by. "I will find you. When the commotion dies down, I will find you, and I will bring you back to me," Yifan tells him. "Wait for me." 

Junmyeon presses another quick kiss to Yifan's lips as a seal of promise, then disappears out the window where he had first entered. 

He is hopeful.

 

❅ ❅ ❅ 

 

**epilogue**

 

 

As expected, the news of King Myeongjong's assassination had spread like wildfire on the very next day, and the suspicions were immediately pinned upon Junmyeon, owing to the confessions made by the guards who'd let him pass, thinking that he was harmless on Goryeo soil. How wrong they were. And now they were paying the price for trusting Junmyeon so easily. 

It wasn't an easy feat to lay low, when the Goryeo army was combing the streets of Goryeo for him, but Junmyeon accomplished it well for the most part. It was a good thing not many people actually recognised him, so it was possible for Junmyeon to hide himself amongst the crowd and pretend that he was just a normal citizen. Joongi didn't seem to be wholeheartedly hunting Junmyeon down, though, and the intense search slowly dwindled down over the weeks, until all that was left was the announcements pinned on each town's notice board. Even then, the people of Goryeo eventually forgot about it, too; no one intended to seek out the assassin who helped end the king's life—and thus, their misery under his rule. 

Junmyeon imposed a self-exile from Goryeo upon leaving Weiyang Palace and the love of his life behind, though, assimilating himself amongst the citizens of a quaint town in Huaxia, the one closest in proximity to the meadows where he'd saved Yifan's life and changed his fate. There was no way he could have returned to Goryeo—not that he wanted to, either, considering the amount of unhappy memories he had of the place—after assassinating King Myeongjong, anyway. The townspeople were accommodating enough of him, all kind smiles and cheerful greetings whenever they see him on the streets, calling him by the name he wants them to: Junmian. It was a good thing he was fluent enough in the Huaxia language and blessed without an accent, so no one really suspected him as an outsider, merely identifying him as the man who'd decided to have a change of scenery after moving on from his previous town. 

It's a quiet life, none of the restrictiveness he had experienced back in Songak and Chang'an, and Junmyeon enjoys the leisurely pace at which the townspeople go by on the daily. The less fortunate are not as common here in Huaxia as they were in Junmyeon's home country, which impresses Junmyeon because it speaks volumes about the way Yifan's running his country. He knows this, of course—Yifan is extremely meticulous with the policies he intends to implement, and he would ensure his ministers handle their jobs properly, without the widespread corruption happening in Goryeo.

Junmyeon can only hope Joongi is acting as a better king than Myeongjong ever was. 

Nevertheless, even while living a relatively calm life, Junmyeon's heart remains as restless as ever, though this time it's from his feelings of yearning. There's never a moment where Junmyeon wouldn't be thinking about Yifan, from the way Yifan smiles at him, to the way his features light up when Junmyeon walks into the room, almost as though Junmyeon means the world to him. He can still remember the ghost of Yifan's touch on his skin, the warm press of his body against Junmyeon's, and it's at such times that Junmyeon nearly breaks his resolve to stay away from Weiyang Palace, when his longing for Yifan's companionship grows to an unbearable state. 

But Junmyeon doesn't give in. He has no right to even _want_ to have Yifan's presence by his side, when he had once held the intention to kill him in the past. It doesn't even matter that Junmyeon is in love with him; it's punishment enough, to have to force himself to stay away. 

He remembers Yifan's promise to him on the night he left Weiyang Palace, of course, but it's been _years_ since then, and he's never seen a trace of his lover. Yifan has probably forgotten about him and moved on with his life; Junmyeon has heard of the news that Empress Song Qian had given birth to a healthy baby prince—the new Crown Prince of Huaxia who will eventually succeed Yifan's throne—two years prior. He has no reason to hope.

 

❅

 

Junmyeon cups his frigid hands over his mouth and blows on them, hoping he could warm them up. The autumn has grown cold much earlier than anyone had expected it to, and Junmyeon's not particularly great against such cool temperatures. It's at these times that he misses the warmth of Yifan's warm hands, fingers wrapped snugly around his as they brave the strong winds sweeping across the palace grounds. He shakes his head to rid himself of those thoughts, pulling his coat closed around him as he bids the owner of the tavern goodbye and walks onto the near-deserted streets.

He offers his help at the tavern every night, serving alcohol to customers and drinking with some of them on the rare occasion, and gets paid a small sum of money in return. It's not much, but at least it helps Junmyeon to get by just fine. Conversing with the customers—some of them are government officials—is the only way Junmyeon can ever get news about the latest happenings in Weiyang Palace after all. It's not as though he misses the life there; he only wants to know how Yifan's doing, no matter how close to impossible it is for these lowly government officials to have any form of interaction with Yifan at all.

He can live with it. 

The warning bells in Junmyeon's head are set off when he sets foot in the compound of his home, though, when he notices barely-there footprints in the sand, much larger than the ones Junmyeon had left behind this morning. There isn't much of a reason for anyone to hunt him down now, when King Myeongjong has been dead for five full years, but Junmyeon can never be too careful, either. He doesn't get any visitors in the day, when his neighbours all know that he'd be out and about until late evening, and his routine has never changed ever since he had moved in. 

Reaching beneath his coat for the dagger he keeps strapped to his waist, Junmyeon quietly inches forward to his home, deciding to go around the back where his room is. His movements are light as he climbs in through the windows, relieved when he finds that it's deserted. It's not big enough for anyone to hide in, anyway, unlike his chambers back in Weiyang Palace. He then creeps towards the doorway, eyes narrowed in the direction of the main entrance. There is a tall figure seated at the table where Junmyeon usually takes his meals alone, though it's hard to discern who it is, when the house is shrouded in darkness. The intruder has made a fatal mistake by positioning his back towards Junmyeon, and he grabs the opportunity to wrap an arm around the intruder's neck, placing enough pressure to choke but not kill.

Junmyeon presses the tip of his dagger against the pulse point of the intruder's neck as a warning to not make any sudden movements, or suffer from a painful, bloody death. "Who are you, and what are you doing in my home?" He growls, senses on full alert as he scans the room for more attackers. He finds none. A lone assailant, then.

Much to his surprise and confusion, though, the intruder's body actually shakes in mirth, laughter bubbling out of his lips moments later. Junmyeon's heart gets caught in his throat at the familiar sound. It can't be—

"Did you not say you no longer have the desire to assassinate me, Junmyeon? Are you going against your words now?" It's the same deep, rich timbre that Junmyeon had fallen in love with all those years ago, between quiet recitations of poetry and silent whispers of his name. Junmyeon drops his hands at once, as though the touch of their skin burns him. 

It isn't too far from the truth, though. 

"Yifan?" He exclaims, eyes following the man's movements as he stands at full height and turns to face Junmyeon. He can feel Yifan's smile on him, even if he can't see it in the dark; he's only thankful that the blush on his cheeks won't be apparent. "What—what are you doing here?" 

"Am I not welcomed?" Yifan asks, and Junmyeon can hear the pout in his voice. 

"No! Of course not!" He quickly amends. "I'm just— this is not the place an Emperor should set foot in."

"Does it matter?" Yifan has walked forth now, closing the rest of the distance between them and taking Junmyeon's cold hands in his. Instantly, the warmth spreads from his fingertips, and Junmyeon thinks he's finally, finally _home_. "I came here as Wu Yifan, not the Emperor of Huaxia. I came here for _you_." 

Junmyeon chokes up with emotion, and he can feel the tears brimming in his eyes. "What?" 

It seems as though Yifan _knows_ Junmyeon's crying in the dark. He brings up a warm hand and wipes away a stray tear with the pad of his thumb, still smiling down at Junmyeon. "The promise I made years ago. I remember. And I am fulfilling that promise now."

Despite everything Junmyeon has been telling himself, the innate desire to be selfish still rages on, and he grips Yifan's hands harder. "Will the Dowage Empress not be furious? I was raised as an _assassin_ , Yifan."

"She will have to punish me from the heavens, if she is; she had just passed on a month ago," Yifan tells him, and Junmyeon dares to hope for a little more. "Besides, you have no sworn allegiance to any nation now, do you? Do you still have the intention to kill me?"

Junmyeon's eyes widen in horror at the question. "Heavens, no! How could I possibly even want to kill you now, when I could not even bear to hurt you in the past?"

"Then that is enough," Yifan raises Junmyeon's knuckles to his lips and presses a warm kiss upon it, and Junmyeon's heart soars. "Come with me, back to Weiyang Palace where you belong—by my side. No one else knows of the circumstances behind your leaving; King Joongi never sent a messenger to Chang'an to inform us about King Myeongjong's death, nor of your false identity. You do not have to worry."

"Do you really want me there?" Junmyeon asks, even though he already knows the answer, judging from the way Yifan's gazing intently at him. 

"Yes, more than anything in the world, Junmyeon," Yifan breathes, slowly closing the distance between their faces. Junmyeon's eyelids flutter shut on their own accord, savouring Yifan's warmth so close to him. It's almost as though Yifan had never left. "I regretted it once, when I allowed Lu Han to walk away from me without chasing him back, even though I loved him mor than anything in the world. I'm not about to let the same thing happen twice, now. I'm sorry it took so long for me to come back to you."

Junmyeon's heart is bursting at its seams from joy at Yifan's confession, and he smiles at him. "It doesn't matter. What matters most is you came back for me."

"Will you agree to be my Imperial Noble Consort, then?"

"I will," Junmyeon affirms, and he immediately goes on tiptoes to give Yifan a deep kiss, which Yifan reciprocates just as passionately.

Finally his life feels complete, and it's more than he can hope for.

**Author's Note:**

> \- Huaxia is another nickname used to call China.  
> \- The Imperial Chinese harem system used in this fic is based on the Qing Dynasty's system. For more information, click [this](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Imperial_Chinese_harem_system)!  
> \- Dumangang actually exists, and acts as the border between China and North Korea (remember that Goryeo used to include both N & S, and Songak is located in NK.)


End file.
